Burnt by the Sun
by bonbonchocolate
Summary: The End of the War meant hope for everyone, the dawn of a new day..but what of those that could only pick up the remains of what was left by this war? This is the story of those burnt by the sun and their lives afterwards: love, deception, hate. DracoxOC
1. The Funeral of Severus Snape

Harry's POV:

"Who ever thought we'd be here to mourn Snape ever in our lives?" Hermione asked and I wryly grinned, watching his casket being lowered into the grave in a slow, smooth pace. I stared at the coffin, watching the flowers that people dropped on top pointlessly hit the casket, making the sound that a feather does in the wind as they landed. I was crushing the flower in my hand, the stem standing no chance against me as I squeezed it, pursing my lips together as I stared down into the hole.

_This wasn't how it was supposed to be._

"I was so sure that at the end, I would be dancing on his grave. I never thought that I would ever mourn him." Ron said quietly, his voice distracted as he stared down into the hole as well. He walked over and dropped his flower onto the casket, closing his eyes for a moment as he stood still, standing over the hole as if he were the grave marker itself. When he opened his eyes I could see the turmoil that went through him as well. None of us knew how to take this. None of us knew how to properly mourn him. None of us knew how to remember him.

Hermione went next and dropped her flower, tears slowly falling down her face. In her expression I read it all. _I'm sorry_ it said. _We're so sorry _it said. As they returned to stand next to me, I knew I couldn't hold onto this flower forever—but I didn't want to let it go. I didn't want to let it go anytime soon. I watched those who made their rounds, each one with a look of guilty indifference as they dropped their flowers. I knew what they were all thinking. They were all here out of guilt, having believed him to be the right-hand man of Voldemort throughout the war, having believed him to be the evil that they had fought so hard against. Well, except for one family.

The Malfoys, or what was left of them, Narcissa and Draco, were the sincerest of all the mourners. In their faces were etched the expressions of true sorrow and loss. For the first time in my life, I saw both Narcissa cry, the proud and haughty woman unashamed at showing her tears as she dropped her flower. Her son stood bravely next to her, holding her hand and supporting her as he looked down at the casket. He wore a mask, but in his eyes I could see it, I could read it, the hurt and the pain. When he looked up our eyes met and there was a mutual understanding. He nodded and I nodded back, breaking off the contact as soon as it had begun. We respected each other, we understood the point to which we had come. At Snape's funeral there was no vengeance or grudges to be held—this was a neutral ground. We were here for one reason and one reason only: To honor the man that made the triumph over evil possible.

I grudgingly walked up to the casket and dropped my flower which looked like it had just been trampled into the ground. As I watched it fall I felt that time had slowed down, letting me see my own grudges fall with the flower. And when it landed, time sped up again and all I could see was the pathetic excuse of a flower resting on the very of the casket.

_Why? Why did you do this?_

But of course, I knew why. My mother. His love for my mother. And thought at first the very thought of Severus Snape in love with my mother sickened me, I learned to appreciate it. After all, it would eventually save our lives.

I watched as Pansy Parkinson came after me, she had come here by herself with no family to accompany her. Her normally pompous look and pouty expression was gone, replaced with one of humility and sadness. She dropped her flower and when she looked up, her eyes met mine as well. I could see it her eyes, she understood too.

_We were children. Foolish children and we still are. We've grown up so much, and yet, we're still such children._

Then there was the last girl who had been hidden behind Narcissa. She stepped forward, her netted veil hiding her face along with a black hat. She was dressed up differently from the rest of us. Her robes looked nothing like the ones everyone else wore. Though they were all black, the sleeves were bigger and it actually had a train at the end. The thin gold patterns that bordered her sleeves flickered in the light as she moved to drop her flower, landing neatly next to mine. I couldn't read her face because I couldn't see it. The veil, it hid it. But I watched her go back to the Malfoys and watched Narcissa put a hand on the girl's shoulder. I didn't give it much thought as there were various people I didn't know here, the only ones I knew were mostly from Hogwarts. Without a doubt Snape had collected various connections throughout the years, and not all of them had to be Death Eaters.

"Please bow your heads for the prayer." The priest said and I followed, closing my eyes as I smelled the damp earth around me. But as it had been for the past few weeks, I couldn't close my eyes without seeing something of the war. Closing my eyes seem to give my memories a blank canvas to project themselves on.

"_Snape!!!!" I screamed as I saw a moment too late Nagini lunging at Snape, her fangs sinking deep into his throat. Before anything could be done the snake had let go and slithered off and in front of me a loud thud cracked. Severus Snape's dying body lay before and he looked up at me, his eyes pleading._

"_Please…" He rasped out and a thin silvery liquid protruded from his wand. I watched as Hermione reached out from behind me and scooped it up in a jar. I recognized it as the liquid memory._

"—a good man that nobody saw until the very end. We a lot to this man, for most of us, to him we owe our very lives. We thank him for this, we are indebted and his heroism will long be remembered in the very history of the wizarding world. May he go in peace. In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit."

"Amen."

When we looked up we saw Minerva, Hooch, Shacklebolt, Kingsley, and the rest of the Hogwarts Professors in a line, their wands raised.

In silence, they simultaneously shot off green, silver and gold sparks from the tips of their wands, disappearing into the sky. They did this three times and when they lowered their wands all was silent except for Narcissa Malfoy's sobs. It was over. It was over. The funeral was over. The last of all the funerals we were to attend was Snape's, it hadn't been done immediately due to the anonymity of his goodness and efforts. Before we turned to leave I felt a tap on my shoulder to see an old man, dressed in a suit rather than a robe. He held a battered briefcase in his left hand and had tapped me with his right. He gave me a small smile.

"Hello, you must be Mister Harry Potter. And you two must be Miss Hermione Granger and Mister Ronald Weasley. I'm Mister Eisenberg, Severus' lawyer. You three will have to come with me as he has left something for each of you." He said, shaking each one of our hands in turn. Personally, I was a bit taken aback that Snape had left any of us anything. Though he had fought for our side, I was still pretty sure he had never liked any one of us. Nevertheless, we followed him along with Narcissa and Draco who apparently were part of Snape's will as well. And that girl.

"_He loved your mother…he did all this out of love Harry."_

"_I don't want to hear it Hermione."_

"_But Harry, you must understand—"_

"_It's disgusting! To think of filth like Snape ever thinking of my own mother like that!"_

"_Harry—"_

I stepped into a medium size room, taking a seat across from the desk next to Narcissa and Ron. I looked around and saw that only the seven of us, including the lawyer, had been written into Snape's will. The lawyer, Mr. Eisenberg, cleared his throat as he drew out a piece of parchment, putting on his glasses as he squinted at the text.

"I, Severus Snape, will first divvy certain artifacts between Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and the insufferable Harry Potter." He read and I couldn't help but chuckle, along with a few others in the room. Even in knowing his inevitable death, Snape had maintained what had made him notorious.

"To Hermione Granger I leave one letter of recommendation because as the pretentious, little know-it-all, I know that she will at the end of her graduation of Hogwarts, have a seizure in worrying over who will write her one. I also leave her a perfectly brewed vial of Rementis to give to her parents for when she retrieves them. It will restore their memories as if you had never changed them in the first place. You will have had a very difficult time finding the ingredients for these things, some of them I have only been able to collect over the past fifteen years."

"To Ronald Weasley, a failure if I've ever seen one. I also leave you one letter of recommendation because you will need it. I've also left you a small fortune of ten-thousand galleons. I know nothing will ever replace the loss of your brother, Fred Weasley, but I can only try and help make your life easier without the worry of finance."

"And to the boy-who-couldn't-just-leave-it-alone, Harry Potter. I understand that after this, it will be near impossible to continue living with your Muggle family. To you I leave half of the deed to my house on Spinner's End. I also leave you the Elder Wand as it is now rightfully yours. You may dispose of it, use it, whatever you choose to do to your own discretion it matters naught to me."

Half a deed? Half a deed? Who gives out half of a deed?

And yet, I was touched. Snape had taken into consideration my extreme dislike for the Dursleys and offered me his home. But..where was the other half going to? I mulled it over my head, the possibility of what Snape's home looked like. All I could imagine was a dingy chamber, cracks in the walls and water dripping from the ceiling. I imagined a semi-cave that Snape spent his life in…it seemed that it would have been suitable for him after all.

"To Draco Malfoy, though you have struggled to keep up with know-it-all Granger, the one subject you seem to have bested her in is Potions. To you I leave my collection of books and potions alike. I leave you the tools of my Potions chamber at your personal disposal. Make use of it, do not let it go to waste. I have faith in you which I'm sure will be wasted and stupid."

"To Narcissa Malfoy, you would never accept any type of money. Here I ask you a favor to take care of my daughter, Anastaisia Alexandrova, until she reaches 18 years of age. I ask that you be her legal guardian until then, though you may decline."

"And finally, to my beloved daughter, Anastaisia Alexandrova. I filled out the paperwork to change your name back to Anastaisia Snape, whether you wish to change it back to your original name or not is up to your choice, but I have included the proof of my relation to you. I leave you the other half of the deed and when you turn 18 you may move into the house. You and Potter may fight over who has the complete deed to the house later on, I hope you give that big-headed boy a good hexing when you fight. And my fortune, all of it, is in your name at Gringotts. I leave you all this and two letters. One will be with the deed, the details of the other will be explained in the first letter."

"_What?!_" I heard Ron shout before even thinking. We were all stunned. Snape? A daughter? I felt Hermione nudge him hard in the ribs as to let the lawyer continue. He pulled out several envelopes, handing one to Ron, Hermione and me. He then slid a long thin box to me and I found my hands trembling as I took it. I almost wanted to laugh at the patheticness of the box. This was a wand wizards would strive to die for. This was a wand that could start another war. But as I looked up I watched as that veiled girl stepped forward and accepted her letter. I tried to get a better look at her face, I was curious to see what the daughter of Severus Snape looked like, but she moved quickly, snatching her envelope and immediately going behind Narcissa and Draco who quietly stood up to leave after they had received their things. I stared after them and got up, walking quickly with Ron and Hermione behind me.

I paused though, seeing the girl briefly turn her head to me, a glimpse of her eyes barely making it through her veil. I couldn't even tell what color her eyes had been, but I knew she had looked at me and I had become rooted to the spot.

_Snape's daughter?_

"Harry, what's up with you?" Ron asked, putting a hand on my shoulder. I shook my head and nervously ran a hand through my hair.

"I just, can't believe Snape had a daughter, this entire time." I said, disbelieving.

"Me neither. I can't even imagine who the mother must've been." Hermione mumbled and I could hear a snort from Ron.

"Poor woman, having to be under that sleazy git—"

"Ron!" Hermione punched Ron in the shoulder and I merely shook my head. Even I wasn't particularly in any mood to slag on Snape. I clutched my half of the deed in my hand and turned to Ron and Hermione, holding up the box that held the Elder Wand.

"What do I do with this?" I asked and Ron shrugged, whilst Hermione rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

"Maybe—"

"Ronald! Hermione! Harry! Come children, let's get back home, it'll be raining soon." I heard Molly's voice call out and like obedient ducklings, we trotted after her, reaching the Apparating Point while she counted her children.

"Fred?"

"Check."

"Ginny?"

"Here mum."

"Arthur?"

"Molly, everyone's here. Let's go." Arthur said, putting an arm around Mrs. Weasley before a loud _pop_ sounded. Everyone apparated back to the burrow and I closely followed. With a small thud of feet landing onto wooden floors I looked around to see Hermione and Ron waiting for me. Hermione quickly grabbed both of our arms and dragged us up the stairs to Ron's room and shut the door, placing silencing charms and locks around the room before she settled down on the bed.

"I thought the war was over, no need to be so secretive Hermione." I said, teasing her and she rolled her eyes.

"Nonsense Harry. Besides, we're not just talking about the Elder Wand..when we ransacked the Ministry and went through the files to find the list of half-bloods, muggles and their related families, I know for a fact that Severus' family was no listed. The only listed family of his were his mother and father, and both of them were already deceased. Harry, did Dumbledore ever mention to you about Snape having a daughter?"

"No, never. I don't even know if Dumbledore knew. Snape was able to hide her existence without any help from the Order or anybody else." I answered while I fiddled with the box of the Elder Wand. I opened the cover and peered at the haggard looking thing, looking crudely made and not-special in the least bit.

"Ron…since you're going to be opening your own bank account with those ten-thousand galleons…I think we should put the Elder Wand in your Gringotts account. Everybody will suspect that it'll be in mine if this were to ever come up as an issue again." I said slowly and Hermione nodded, agreeing with me.

"Yes, that's a good idea. I also don't believe anybody will try anything for a while now." Hermione said and Ron took out his envelope and extracted the note that signed him ten-thousand galleons.

"Merlin, who ever thought I'd ever be getting money from Snape? My brothers will go insane from envy when they hear the news."

"Ron, you getting money isn't that interesting. I want to talk about Snape's daughter!" Hermione said irritably and Ron merely stuck his tongue out at her, clutching the envelope to himself as if it were his first born. I ran a hand through my hair again as I looked at the deed in front of me. I had never thought Snape had ever given any type of consideration to my situation with the Dursleys. Then I thought about who held the other half of the deed.

"Did either of you get a good look at her face? I didn't." I grumbled and Hermione shook her head.

"No, that veil kept her face well-hidden. But I remember that Snape's will stated that the Malfoys will be taking care of her. Why the Malfoys of all people? Lucius Malfoy is already…in St. Mungo's Psychiatric Ward. Narcissa's a mess without him and the only one of their family that could possibly leave a stable life is Draco now. His choice doesn't seem wise." Hermione said, thinking it over as she put her reasoning out in the open. I took her points and tried to make sense of it as well.

"Well wasn't it revealed that Snape had agreed to take the Unconditional Vow to protect Draco? Maybe Narcissa agreed to do the same for Snape's daughter." I said and it seemed to make sense.

"Yeah, but I want to know who her mom is. I mean, who did Snape actually have a daughter with? I thought he was, no offense, in love with your mum Harry." Ron said and I repressed a cringe at the very thought of Snape having any type of affection for my mother. Indeed, who _would_ be willing to have a child with Snape? And whoever it was, what happened to that woman? Why wasn't she the one taking care of Snape's daughter now? Was she dead? Was she incapacitated?

Or maybe she just wanted nothing to do with a daughter borne by Snape. I could see that being the case.

"I wonder what happened to her mum, since she's not the one taking care of her." I said and with the sound of footsteps coming upstairs, Hermione waved her wand again, lifting up the charms that protected this room. A moment later a knock came and Mrs. Weasley's voice could be heard. I opened the door and Mrs. Weasley smiled at me, looking into the room as she surveyed the others with a smile.

"Hello! Come children, we're having lunch. Right afterwards we're stopping by Gringotts so that Ron can open his own bank account. And Harry, Severus also left us the only Portkey to the house he left to you. We could open it up on the Floo Network but the instructions are at the house. We can check it out after Gringotts if you would like honey."

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"This is…surprisingly nice. Especially for Snape..I expected…I expected…"

"A dungeon." I filled in for Hermione as I looked through the house. The house elf, Cissy, had kept it in pristine shape, everything was neat and orderly. There wasn't a single trace of dust. As I opened the door to the Master Bedroom I felt a small hand on my leg, tugging my jeans for my attention. I looked down and saw Cissy.

"Master Potter, this room was not left for you. This room was left for other Master, Master Missus Snape. Cissy cannot let you go in this room without Missus permission." She said and immediately my curiosity was piqued. Of course, being told I can't go in this room only made me want to go in it more, but I respectfully closed the door and stepped aside, much to Cissy's relief.

"Okay. You've kept the house in great condition Cissy." I complimented the House Elf and I watched her tennis-ball eyes grow even bigger and her face flush with embarrassment. A compliment was obviously not something she was used to.

"T-th-thank you Master Potter. Cissy will start dinner now. It should be ready in half an hour." She stuttered before disappearing with a light pop.

"Harry, this house is pretty huge." Hermione said behind me, opening another door as she peered in, looking at the lack of decoration in the house. The furniture and style of the house inside was something I had never expected. It was a Victorian themed house, down to the dark cherry wood and red-velvet cushions. It tottered more to the style of the gothic with the tall archways that you passed between hallways and rooms. It was all very elegant and sophisticated in a very old style. I never thought of Snape as one to have tastes in furniture or style. I opened another room and turned to Hermione, beckoning her to come over to look at what I had just found.

"Oh..my God…oh…it's…wow.." She was breathless at Snape's library, shelves upon shelves filled with old and new textbooks. Even I could recognize the rarity of the majority of these books. This was Snape's lifetime collection, I couldn't even fathom the value of these books. Hermione went over to one to take it out of the bookshelf but I grabbed her wrist to stop her. She turned to me, a confused look on her face.

"Harry I just want to see—"

"There's a catalogue of the books on that desk. There are instructions on how to open each book. I learned my lesson with Hagrid's class about opening books we don't know anything about." I said and Hermione grinned, nodding as she went over to the catalogue. She was about to open it when Cissy popped in again, wringing her hands as she looked up at Hermione nervously.

"Missus Muggle-born, you cannot touch the library. 'twas left to Mister Malfoy." She said and I rolled my eyes, wondering how Cissy knew where we were in the house at any given time. Hermione's look of shock quickly disappeared as she backed away from the catalogue, a look of irritation instead replaced on her face as she grumbled something about the unfairness of Malfoy getting such a great gift.

"..I would utilize this more than he ever would…" she grumbled and I chuckled, leading her out of the library and back downstairs where the aroma of Cissy's cooking was drifting from. Again another popping noise sounded as Cissy disappeared, going back to preparing dinner. When back downstairs we saw Mrs. Weasley and Ron, admiring the house as they talked about Ron's inheritance. They turned to us when they heard us come down the stairs and Ron grinned from ear to ear.

"Who knew Snape would live in a place like this huh? You have this entire house..all to yourself Harry.." He trailed off and I got the hint from my best friend, laughing as I walked up to him.

"Of course you could stay over here Ron. Assuming your mum lets you, right Mrs. Weasley?" I asked and Mrs. Weasley looked somewhat sad at the thought, but she merely hugged me and patted my back.

"It's Ron's life, he's of age now and can do whatever he wants—that is, after you all redo your 7th year at Hogwarts to pass your NEWTs. Then he can do whatever, but until then Ronald, I am not letting you fail your schooling!" Mrs. Weasley sternly said, wagging her finger at him. I watched Ron's ears turn pink as Hermione giggled, taking Ron's arm and leading him into the dining room as Cissy called out for dinner. I walked up to Mrs. Weasley, studying the look of sadness in her face. She, of all of us, had lost the most in this war. She had lost one of her children and I could see the extra lines that loss had put in her face.

"It's okay Mrs. Weasley, like The Daily Prophet says, we're the Golden Trio, we're always together, moving together and changing together. With Hermione you know we'll just _have_ to pass our NEWTs." I said jokingly before I went into the dining room to find Hermione trying to sock Ron on the shoulder for smudging mashed potatoes on her face. Inside, something tugged at me and the smile on my face fell as I viewed the scene. I immediately shook it off when I sat down next to Ron.

"Ron, I'm going to kill you." Hermione threatened as she managed to wipe the rest of the mashed potatoes off of her face. Ron grinned and pulled out the chair on the other side of him for his mom.

"Well, we all know you're more than capable Her-my-ninny." Ron teased, using Viktor Krum's old nickname for her to get her riled up. Hermione's face turned bright red and I could hear her muttering something about hexing his face off under her breath. Cissy placed our dinners in front of us with a snap of her fingers and we all responded our thank yous before we started eating.

I quietly looked at the scene that unfolded before me. Ron and Hermione were bickering in that stupid way they always did and Molly Weasley watched them with a knowing smile on her face. She knew what was happening, she knew what was going to happen with them. They were going past their childhood crushes now, they were falling in love and they were becoming adults. They were moving on past the war and looking forward to a future whose foundation had been built in the past.

I felt empty.


	2. Adjustments

Anastaisia's POV:

_Bastard._

_That sorry excuse for a man._

_That sorry excuse for a father._

_That lowly, piece-of-shit, rat bastard._

_That._

_Bastard!!!_

The sound of shattering glass sounded like wondrous chimes to my ears. I looked at the haphazard star of empty space in the center of the window, the broken cracks extending all the way to the very corners of the window and beyond. Flexing my hand, I could feel the remnants of glass within the scrapes between my knuckles. I could hear footsteps coming up the stairs and I took one last look at my hand before waving my wand.

"Reparo." And there was an almost satisfying feeling that coursed through my body when the shards of glass were wrenched from my cuts and flew back to the window, making it seamless as the cracks disappeared. As the footsteps became louder I looked at my hand again. The blood was dripping onto the floor. It's a shame, I was never really good at healing spells. I waved my wand again with my spare hand this time and a stream of gauze wrapped around my injured hand, not very neatly though. Sitting down I pretended to read a book while I hid my wrapped hand in my robe. A few seconds later, the door opened and a blank-faced Draco stood at the arch. He looked at me with disinterest before surveying the room. Nothing seemed out of place.

"Mother sent to see if something was wrong, she though she heard something breaking." He said. I didn't respond to him, the very sight of him compelling me to repress the urge to vomit bile. He looked at me for a few seconds, studying me from head to toe while showing no trace of thought or emotion on his face. I was returning the favor—and it was a favor for him, his entire being disgusted me. As I watched him, I realized I hated more than his very presence. I hated the features of aristocracy that chiseled his face, his posture, his manners. I hated that platinum blond hair that looked so unnatural for a human outside of pornography. I just hated _him_. Draco, motherfucking, Malfoy. I was snapped out of my mental rage when he shifted his body, letting go of the doorknob to lean against the door frame, crossing his arms above his chest while looking around my room in bored distaste. If he were so bored, he should leave. His face was making me suffer.

_What a wanker he looks like._ I thought amusedly to myself, keeping my face emotionless all the while. I knew he already disliked me as well, but he put up a forced politeness out of respect to his mother's wishes—and his wishes to Snape. I felt myself tense at the thought and as I looked at him again, I saw splotches of red in my vision that came in and out like the rain.

_Calm down._ And that was exactly what I did.

"There is also the matter of a dinner celebration tonight for mother's press release on her new book. I was asked to extend the invitation to you. Would you like to attend?" I shook my head and he didn't spare me another word before he turned around and left, deftly closing the door behind him. I could see he had expected as much from me at least, not even bothering to question me or insisting. In fact, I was pretty sure he didn't want me to attend the dinner. Didn't matter to me.

I looked at the bookshelf in front of me and I almost smiled at the bitter humor that was in the title of her book.

_The Grey of the War_

Of course Narcissa would find a way to benefit from the war she had initially supported. Of course the Malfoys weren't below stooping to this level.

And it made me so angry that they had profited so greatly from this book. The book was nothing new to me, its news was no stranger. I had heard of its popularity when I had still been in Russia. It had become popular in all reaches of the world. If there was a Wizarding community, they had known of her book. And despite of the few critics that called her out on her motive for writing this, millions more had their hearts melted and weeping for the poor, poor, Narcissa Malfoy and her suffering son, Draconis Malfoy. Idiots, the lot of them. Who were they to profit from the war? They profited before, during and now after. Why, why was there no punishment for these people? Why, why did Severus leave me with these bastards?! How was it that these people manipulated everything so that no matter what, they would come out of any situation with their heads held up high and their noses pointed into the air? How was this at all fair?

In anger I grabbed Narcissa's book from the bookshelf and held it to throw out the window when I paused, taking a deep breath and lowering the book down onto my lap. I studied the cover, wondering if I would get in trouble if I were to puke on it. The cover was a photo of Draco's first birthday. Narcissa was standing behind Draco, next to Lucius, whose arm was draped around her waist. Interestingly enough, Lucius actually looked happy, or at least content—but of course, the main point was the forlorn look that masked Narcissa's eyes as she regarded Lucius. The photo practically screamed 'I was never happy." I hated it and it took a good amount of self control not to burn the book right then and there. Slowly, I got past the cover and opened the book.

"_They say that we are bad people. They say that we are evil and soon, the word 'people' are taken entirely out of the picture. We become minions of evil, the followers of You-Know-Who. They never asked where we came from, why we made the decisions we chose…they never thought that sometimes, we never had a choice—"_

I couldn't help myself, my hand reached up and tore the first page right out. I crumpled it in my hand while my teeth started to grind against each other. This woman. I hated her more and more with every passing moment.

_We never had a choice?_

We always had a choice. We still, always have a choice. It is just a matter of questioning what you were willing to sacrifice. She had made her choice. They all did.

My fist tightened over the crumpled piece of paper in my hand as I heard the door of the Malfoy Manor open and close, the sound of their footsteps getting fainter as the seconds went by. They had left for their stupid dinner for their stupid celebration.

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"She hates us." I said offhandedly, looking out the limousine's tinted window at the crowds which dispersed on London's cobblestone streets. That girl, that little offspring of Severus…I could see the hatred in her eyes, clear as day. Whenever I asked her a question, it was her rage that prevented her from speaking. She would grind her teeth and clench her fists as if to prevent herself from screaming at me. I had never seen someone rendered speechless from anger. That was pure hatred she always looked at me with and I had no idea why. I didn't care enough to ask her, but it did irritate me, especially when she looked at my own mother with the same amount of hatred—if not, more.

"Don't say such things Draco." My mother responded, pursing her lips in distaste as she looked out her own window. I noticed that she didn't deny it though.

"But it's true. I don't understand why you'd open our home to a girl who's not in the least bit grateful. We should let her go on her own and let her see how she fares by herself." I said, the spite creeping up into my voice as I thought about it. It was insulting to have her in our home, to feed her, to clothe her, to welcome her with open arms while she didn't even bother hiding her distaste from us.

"You're right, you don't understand. But it's not a matter we should discuss now. Tonight we are only celebrating." She said, like a true aristocrat, her voice coming out like silk as she waved the matter away with her jeweled hand.

"And why, are we travelling in a pathetic Muggle vehicle? This is inconvenient and time consuming." I grumbled and my mother pulled her gaze away from the window to look at me, her eyes flashing with an unknown emotion when she regarded me.

"We have made many mistakes in the War. We turned a blind eye to the differences between wrong and right. We hated those we didn't even know. We must compensate now. We will learn to embrace the Muggle ways. We will learn to understand those we have wronged Draco…it is the least of what we owe in this lifetime."

And with those words I grew silent, breathing in deeply and closing my eyes. This was our apology. She was saying that this was our form of apologizing to the Muggles…to everyone in the war. Apologizing was something my father had taught me to never do.

_The Malfoy name, it means you don't have to apologize; it means you don't have to grovel; it means you don't have to answer to anybody because you are better than them._

But now, after eighteen years, my mother was changing all of that.

I was too tired to follow her example. I was too tired to care. I was so sick of the War that I was numb. I didn't care about my father's teachings, my family's reputation or my mother's new change of heart. I didn't care where I was going in this life now or what would become of my social life. I was so numbed that it almost didn't matter to me that my father was in St. Mungo's, feigning insanity to stay out of Azkaban. I was numb and my mother couldn't tell the difference between the boy I was, and the man I had become. It was as if I hadn't grown. I was still ever cold, emotionless and blank. But I knew the difference. I no longer felt my life being dedicated to pleasing my father. I no longer felt the fear of disappointing him. I no longer felt the high of imposing my power over those beneath me.

_Nothing._

That was all I felt now.

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"Draco, get Anya and tell her we're going to Diagon Alley to shop for school supplies."

"Yes mother."

I had been pleasantly surprised for the rest of the summer. Anastasia's existence in our home went more or less unnoticed. She often went out of the house during meal times and my mother never questioned it. My mother, in fact, left her to her own and didn't ask for much, nor did she question much. I rarely saw her out of her room. Since she had her private bathroom and didn't eat with us…she really didn't seem to exist. Now, as my mother asked me to go and retrieve her I was slightly annoyed. I had to interact with the ungrateful brat.

I lightly rapped on the door, hoping in my heart of hearts that she wasn't in her room. Maybe she had slipped away without me noticing and—wait. I heard the sound of the window opening and I grew curious. I opened the door quickly and found a somewhat startled Anastasia, who was just in the process of shutting the window back down. When she saw me though, her expression immediately changed, guarding itself under a mask of coldness. What did she just open and shut the window for? That startled look on her face told me she had been something she probably shouldn't have, but again, I dismissed it. I didn't care that much.

"We're going shopping for your school supplies along with mine. Be ready and downstairs in five." I stated, not expecting her to answer (as she never did). I was about to close the door when I caught a strange smell…it was very faint, but it was there and unmistakable.

It was the smell of cigarette smoke.

I paused and stared at her, somewhat caught offguard by this. I knew she hadn't smoked in this room because the smell was too faint. She had gone somewhere to smoke…or perhaps she was with someone who had been smoking—I doubted that. She had no social circle here, she must've smoked herself.

"You should do a better job of hiding the smell of your smoking habit. They have spells for that you know." I said smugly, but her expression didn't change whatsoever. It was as if she didn't hear me. Instead she grabbed a satchel and slung it over her shoulder, opening the door more and walking past me without another word. As she passed, she mumbled something and with a wave of her wand, the smell of smoke had completely disappeared. Hah, how interesting, the first time I've heard her speak and I couldn't even distinguish any words. I closed the door and thought to myself that this confrontation wasn't as unpleasant as I had thought it would be. Funny, I would have never taken Severus' daughter for a smoker…I wonder if Severus himself had known, I had a feeling he didn't. I was pretty sure he would have cursed her to hell until she stopped such a disgusting habit.

The thought of Severus, like always, made my chest tighten. I never understood why. I wasn't sad, I wasn't remorseful. My chest just always decided to shorten my breaths and make it harder to breathe. I waited until the feeling passed before I descended the stairs to see my mother and Anastasia waiting for me. I tried to decipher the look my mother regarded Anastasia with, but I just couldn't understand it. My mother looked at her with some type of affection and sympathy, some odd type of connection that I didn't understand. What I did understand though, was that it was completely unrequited. Whenever Anya's gaze fell upon my mother, there was nothing but soulless disdain in her eyes. And every time, I felt insulted.

"Here's some money Draco, take care of Anya. I will have to leave you two. I have to meet with Rita Skeeter for an interview. Let's meet at Flourish and Blott's at two." And before I could even argue with my mother, she had apparated away with a pop. I looked at Anya, not even bothering to hide my contempt for her as I looked down at her.

"You have your apparating license, you're of age right?" I asked and she nodded. I opened the pouch of money and looked at the generous amount my mother had left me. I looked back up and tucked the pouch away in my pockets.

"We'll get this done as quickly as possible. Apparate to Tom's Inn in Diagon Alley. I'll meet you there." I said and didn't wait for a response apparating and finding myself in the familiar Inn of Tom's. I saw that it wasn't crowded at this godforsaken early hour of 7:00AM. Why did my mother think we needed to be here until 2:00PM? That was too many goddamn hours. I waited, avoiding the gaze of Tom the bartender as he studied me. He more than recognized me. I could see the look of scorn in his face as he looked at me. As if a barman had any place to have any type of scorn for me. He was a nobody.

Five minutes. She still hadn't apparated here.

Ten minutes. Where the hell was this girl?

Irritated, I apparated back to the manor and saw her standing there, a look of mild annoyance on her face. Why was she annoyed? I was the one waiting ten minutes!

"Are you mute and stupid as well? Don't you know how to apparate—"

"..never…been to…Dia..gon….Alley…" She mumbled slowly, her voice so strained that I was convinced she couldn't speak any English. Then, I felt stupid. She had never been to Diagon Alley. How was she supposed to apparate there? I inwardly groaned at my own mistake and walked past her, unintentionally shoving her to the side as I made my way to the living room.

"Come here. We'll floo." I said and looked up to see her slowly make her way over to me, standing in front of the fireplace with her hand out. I looked at her for a moment and decided that she indeed knew English. Or at least, she could understand it well enough. Maybe that's why she never spoke a word to me or my mother…perhaps she was just completely incapable of speaking this language. Had Severus taught her _any_ English? Or did Severus just learn Russian to deal with her? I didn't understand it and it hurt my head more than I cared to have it affect me. I blinked and held out the bowl of Floo Powder to her, letting her grab a handful and watching her step into the fireplace before me. Like a natural, she threw down the powder and then came the moment I was waiting for. I wanted to hear her speak loud and clear.

"Diagon Alley." And with a burst of green flames she disappeared.

I blinked in surprise as she disappeared. Her voice, it was nothing like I had expected. It wasn't soft, it wasn't squeaky like I had expected. She was so small, so petite and fragile looking that I had expected a voice to go and match it. But no…her voice was hardened and strong to the point of being harsh. It sounded mean actually…and without any hint of the Russian accent I also had expected. I smirked to myself at the humor of her blowing up my expectations and grabbed a handful of floo powder, stepping into the fireplace to disappear next.

"Diagon Alley."

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As I stepped out of the fireplace I looked around, the shabby interior of a building that represented an inn smelling like old cigarette butts and fresh food. I heard the fireplace roar behind me and the sound of footsteps following afterwards told me that Draco had arrived. Fucking git. I didn't bother turning around, waiting for him to stand beside me and bark out orders. And of course, he did.

"Here, mother left a good amount of galleons for us. You have your list of books and a brain. Be back here at 2:00PM." He said, shoving a large handful of galleons into my robe pocket. I refrained from rolling my eyes as he walked past me, not even bothering to look behind at me. Of course, I have a list of books and a brain, it would be a piece of cake finding all my supplies in a town I've never been to, in a country I've never visited. I irritably took the gold out and instead shoved it all into my satchel, ignoring the inquisitive looks from the barman as I exited the placed.

It was like a burst of light when I stepped out onto the street. The sun shone brightly and though it was early, there were a decent amount of people walking up and down the street, chatting, socializing, being normal people. I had no idea where to go. I slowly made my way down the street, looking through the windows of the shops as I passed them by. There was an odd quiet that hung in the air, as if this town were the remains of a passing storm. I found the bookstore and walked in, promptly handing my book list to the woman at the register. She had short brown hair and a weasel looking mouth. She smiled at me.

"Oh! A seventh year I see! Follow me, let's get you your books. You're going to have quite the busy year." She said and for the entire time I was there, I didn't listen to a single word she had said. I followed her through the maze of books, looking around constantly at my surroundings out of habit. There were books that seemed to be alive, there were books that looked like they were going to attack…there were books that looked like…normal books.

"And that'll be five galleons, twenty-five sickles and thirty three knuts please!" She said cheerfully enough. I didn't pay attention, instead just shoveling out six galleons from my satchel and hurriedly taking the change from her along with the large amount of books. I shoved them into my backpack, thanking the ingenuity of whoever had crafted my backpack to allow an almost unlimited amount of things to shrink and fit into it. I stepped out of the store and saw him. _Him._

Harry, motherfucking, Potter.

He was across the street with his two friends that I recognized from the funeral. Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley…those names were famous enough in the wizarding world. The Golden Trio was happily eating ice-cream, talking to each other with bright smiles on their faces.

I felt this pang, this little twinge inside of my chest as I looked at them. At that moment, The-Boy-Who-Lived decided to look up, catching my stare and forcing me to look away quickly. I quickly walked to the group in front of me, blending in behind them so that I could disappear from view. I hurriedly walked down the street, only occasionally glancing back to see if I had been followed. I continued walking now, having no clue where I was going, but I did notice that the street started to look a little less well kempt and the atmosphere had completely changed. I took a turn down a sidestreet and immediately regretted it.

It smelled like urine and rotting meat here, there were witches with frazzled hair who stared at me with wicked smiles. The wizards who lined this street stared at me as well, their expressions more guarded. Inside, my heart started to beat faster while I forced my face to remain impassive. I acted like I knew where I was going, but of course, I had no clue, I was lost and I was frightened. I opened the door of a shady looking shop, pretending to have planned on going here this entire time when I found myself crashing into somebody.

Immediately I had whipped out my wand and had the point jabbed into the person's ribs while my other wrist had been grabbed to hold me steady.

"What in bloody hell are you doing here?" A familiar voice barked out at me. I looked up and felt relief at the familiar sight of Draco Malfoy, his eyebrow raised at me as he slowly let my wrist go. In turn I retracted my wand, tucking it back up my sleeve as I looked away from him, noticing the small bag in his hand before he put it away beneath his robes.

"..lost." I muttered, reluctant to admit it, but having no other choice. I wasn't exactly willing to spend the rest of my day here in this godforsaken alley.

"Do I have to babysit you? Follow me. Do not make eye contact with anyone." He moved his hand to grab my wrist again but I smoothly put my hands underneath my robes, hugging myself to avoid his touch. Him grabbing my wrist once was enough for a lifetime. He merely glanced at me before walking out of the store. I followed closely behind him, out of this dark alley and back onto the well-lit street. A sense of dread grew in my chest though as I recognized the direction we were going in. This was the direction I had tried to walk away from, this was the way to—

"Potter." Came Draco's stiff voice, but I detected no malice in it. I slowly peeked from behind Draco and saw the Golden Trio, but they had yet to notice me, the bustling crowd around Draco had hid me well. I took advantage of this and moved through the crowd, walking around the Trio and managing to get myself a seat at a round-table behind them.

"Malfoy." Was all Harry responded with, again, with no malice or any type of hatred. I watched as Draco extend a hand and Harry accept it, firmly shaking it once before they let go. There was some kind of bond there, some form of understanding that passed between them. Draco nodded to Ronald and Hermione, his face still so impassive as he did so.

"Granger, Weasley." He greeted them and though I couldn't see their faces, I watched their bodies visibly stiffen from his attention. Ronald, surprisingly enough extended his hand this time.

"It's good to see you Malfoy." He said and I saw the flicker of shock go across Draco's eyes. He hid it well though and firmly shook Ronald's hand, his lips pursing somewhat in a way that was reminiscent of Narcissa.

"And the same to you."

"Malfo—Draco, would you, like to join us for ice-cream? Perhaps we could catch up a little of what's gone on this summer." It was Hermione who asked this and I could see Draco immediately become on guard at her request. He had seemed stunned at first, then apprehensive. This whole socializing thing between the four of them was apparently something they weren't used to. Even without any type of explanation, I could see the history behind them. They probably had their differences before, then recently had put those differences behind them. This, is what we call the awkward morning after.

"Well, I was just—" Draco looked behind him where I had just been a minute ago and a look of confusion came across his face. He was looking for me. But he seemed to drop the issue quickly as he looked back up at the girl. "Maybe another time Granger, I have errands to run. I will see the three of you at Hogwarts soon. Until then, take care." He said, saving face as he nodded and walked away from them quickly. I watched in amusement as the scene ended. Maybe Draco was more interesting than I had given him credit for.

"You know, it's not polite to stare. If you wanted Harry Potter's autograph you should just go up and ask him, I hear he's a nice guy. You know, saving the world and all." I jumped at the amused voice and looked up to see a smiling boy with flaming red hair that resembled Ronald's. He laughed at my surprised reaction and sat down next to me, smiling at me kindly as he looked at me.

"I was only joking. But seriously, if you want Harry Potter's autograph I could go and get it for you—"

"No thank you." I said, frowning at him, but I knew his smile was infecting me. He seemed to have known this because my frown had no effect on him. Instead, he smiled even wider and held out his hand.

"George Weasley, owner and founder of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes!" He said proudly and this time I gave in, letting the small smile creep up into my face.

"Ah ah! I knew you wanted to smile. And you look even prettier than you did before!" He exclaimed and I couldn't help but blush deep red at his teasing. I took his hand and shook it, now looking him straight on in the eyes and smiling.

"Call me Anya. It's a pleasure to meet you George Weasley." I said, the touch of his hand gentle and warm. It was something I wasn't used to so I ignored the tingling sensation that went through me as I looked at the kind boy.

"Anya huh? I must say it's definitely more of a pleasure to meet you. You don't exactly have a London accent though, where are you from?" He asked and for a moment the smile dropped off my face, but as quickly it had dropped I had plastered it back up. I looked him in the eyes and tried to guess how cultured he was of the world. Telling him I was from Russia wasn't exactly something I wanted to reveal. In fact, I had planned on keeping this entire school year in the dark about who I was. But he didn't seem to be a student. He seemed a little older than that.

"America. I'm from America. I transferred to Hogwarts for my last year because my father had to relocate for his job." I outright lied, but at least it was convincing. George nodded and glanced at my satchel before waving over the waiter.

"America…heard you blokes are pretty chubby over there. Hey Steve! Could I have a three-scoop banana-split sundae with extra hot fudge and whipped cream? And Miss Anya, could I get you anything?" He ordered and asked me, and I wondered if he noticed the irony of his two sentences together. I grinned and shook my head.

"No thank you George—"

"She'll have the same." He interrupted, his eyes were twinkling with mischief when he looked back to me. His eyes were amber brown, so warm and so genuine. But I could see something I recognize there. There was a sort of hardness in there, someone who had suffered and was living with it to the best of his ability. But he was suffering somehow. I could see it.

"I feel like you're reading my thoughts when you stare at me like that." He joked lightly, but his words had startled me. I chuckled, looking up briefly as the waiter placed our two sundaes in front of us. It was huge. I looked up with wide eyes at George as he pretty much plunged into the sundae. Not one for refined manners I saw…but it was still cute.

"Do you expect me to eat…all of this?" I asked incredulously and George looked up, slowly wiping away chocolate from his bottom lip with his thumb as he grinned at me.

"Naturally. It's delicious." He said as if it were matter-of-fact rather than just an opinion. I couldn't help it though. Whatever he was doing (could you call it being charming?), it was working. I was smiling and as I jabbed the monstrous sundae with my spoon, I was pretty excited to taste it.

And indeed, it was delicious. I was trying to catch up to George, but a brainfreeze was creeping its way up and before I could even get halfway done, I had a pounding headache from the cold. I dropped my spoon and leaned back in defeat, carefully wiping my mouth with the napkin as George looked up, grinning at me.

"I guess it is a bit much—"

"Hey! George! What are you doing here?" I heard someone call out and I froze for a second, recognizing the voice. Reactively I reached into my satchel and pulled out a few sickles to pay for my ice-cream and dropped them onto the table. I got up quickly, being careful not to turn around to see the person who had called out George's name. I was about to rush off without even saying goodbye when George grabbed my hand, pressing something into it as he looked up at me smiling.

"I see you're in a rush, but…visit my shop sometime. Maybe you'll find something you like." He whispered to me and I found myself unable to say anything in return. He was so…forward. This kind of social interaction was so…I hadn't had it for the past couple years. I was starting to adjust to it again. I couldn't think of anything to say so I merely smiled apologetically, walking away just as the Trio's footsteps appeared behind me.

"Did we scare your _date_ away?" I heard Ronald's voice as I walked away along with the sound of George's laughter.

I liked the sound of his laughter. It was nice.


	3. Welcome to Hogwarts

It was going to be an interesting year indeed. Even after death, Dumbledore still ruled a lot of the school. Hermione Granger had naturally been appointed as Head Girl and as for the suggestion of Head Boy…it was me. I had been numb when I received the letter over the summer and my mother had been ecstatic.

"_Oh wait until I tell—" _ She had started and then immediately cut off, remembering that she _no one_ to share this news with. Bellatrix was locked up in Azkaban and all the rest of the Death Eater community were behind bars or dead. But she had immediately recovered from them, the smile back on her face as she gathered me into a hug.

"_Draco…we have come so far. You have come so far. You deserve this. You deserve this more than anyone I know."_

Well perhaps, except for the wonderboy Harry Potter.

It was indeed a wonder as to why he wasn't appointed to Head Boy, but I tried not to dwell on the reasons why I had been appointed and not him. Dumbledore wasn't known for sharing all his secrets after all. I walked through the hallways of the train, ignoring the looks that people gave me. There was a mixture of feelings there. There were a lot of admirers, girls who believed I was the unconventional hero, the tortured boy who had been good all along. There were admiring boys, some of them Slytherin, who appreciated that I had went against my own family and helped out with the war. But there were also the others: Those who considered me a traitor. The ones who had fought on the good side of the war who thought I was still a traitor, still a death eater at heart and had only changed my mind last minute to save my own skin. Then there were those who had been Death Eater sympathizers, they saw me as a traitor as well. How dare I betray them in the war? How dare I help Harry Potter?

This plethora of reactions didn't faze me though. I was numb to them as I purposefully strode to the end compartment, hearing the familiar bickering of the two idiot lovers.

"Ron! I did _not_ snog Viktor Krum!"

"I bet you wanted to though!"

"Ronald Weasley you are _impossible_!"

"Well maybe—" The argument stopped the moment I opened the compartment door. Inside I saw the Golden Trio plus Ginny Weasley. I had to stop myself from smirking at seeing Ginny Weasley. No matter how hard she tried, it would always be the Golden Trio…plus Ginny Weasley. The four of them looked up at me, a look of surprise and apprehension on their faces as I stood at the open compartment door.

"Hello." Was all I managed to say and a chorus of greetings came out. I glanced at the little Weasley girl again and felt a pang of annoyance. "I was hoping to speak with the three of you before the Prefects meeting." I said, noting the Prefects badges proudly pinned on Harry and Ron's robes. Ginny narrowed her eyes up at me and I wanted to hit the little redhead, shoo her out like the annoying dog she was.

"You can say whatever you want in front of me _Malfoy_." She emphasized my name as if it were slime rolling off her tongue. But as I looked to Harry he seemed to disagree.

"Sorry Ginny, we'll see you later. I wanted to speak with you as well Malfoy." Harry said, making the blundering move of the century of any man as the little Weasley's face went red. She muttered something incoherent and shoved past me, making sure to push me slightly as she went past. I slowly shut the compartment door and leaned against it, not particularly comfortable enough to sit down next to any of them.

"So..what did you want to talk about..?" Ron asked tentatively and I took a deep breath, getting ready for the moment of my life that I had never seen coming.

"I…I wanted to give the three of you the apology you deserve, especially you Granger. I was a real git the other six years right from the very start and made your lives miserable. I called you a…mudblood and I am sorry. I'm sorry for the grief I've given you all this time." There was a stunned silence at my apology, the look in Granger's eyes was of utmost disbelief. But oh, I wasn't done. "But I also wanted to thank the three of you. Thank you for standing up for me in court and saving my mother and me from a life in Azkaban. I wanted to thank you all…for being able to forget our past and forgive me, for believing that I had changed and that I wasn't the Death Eater I had made myself out to be. This is all long due, but I figured it was better late than never." I said in one long breath.

What had I expected their reactions to be?

I had expected anger, I had expected disbelief and spite. Six years of bullying, of relentless suffering and vindictiveness…of course I would have expected them to accept my apology on the first go.

And then I felt something that resembled fear. I didn't want to hear them reject my apology. I didn't want to endure a single second more of their silence.

"That is all. See you at the Prefects meeting."

I quickly walked out of there, closing the compartment door behind me as I walked down the corridors of the train. I spotted what seemed to be an empty compartment and quickly shut myself in there, sitting down to find myself facing the girl who had been living in my own house for the past few months.

"Anastasia—"

"Anya." She interrupted and again, the quality of her voice took me off guard. I shrugged it off and folded my arms over my chest. My pride didn't let me just leave as if running away from her like a scared rabbit.

"Anya, then. Are you adjusting well?" I forced myself to ask her. Her steely grey eyes studied me and the look she gave me reminded me painstakingly of Severus. She had that same way of making you feel like nothing when she looked at you like that. I was forcing myself to be civil to her, to ask after her because she was the daughter of the man who had saved my family. I owed it to that man…owed him so much more.

"Yes." Came her curt reply and for a moment I wanted to get up and leave. She obviously didn't want my company. But again, that cold stare and I was reminded of Severus.

"When the train comes to a stop, follow me. McGonagall has asked that you be sorted separately before the sorting begins, since you're not the conventional first year here." I added. It wasn't a lie, it was true that McGonagall had asked that she be sorted separately, but she didn't need my supervision. But seeing as she had gotten so easily lost in Diagon Alley, I would do her the favor of leading her in the right direction so that she wouldn't get lost.

"Okay." Again, one word answers. She annoyed me, from her incredibly dark brown hair that reached her waist, to her almond-shaped grey eyes. She looked nothing like Severus, but I saw him through her eyes; The same coldness, the fierce intelligence and sharpness…the suffering.

"That's all then—"

"Where is Hogsmeade?" She asked suddenly and I blinked in surprise before registering her question.

"How did you hear of Hogsmeade already? I didn't see you talking to anyone earlier." She shrugged, avoiding the answer and I dismissed it. It didn't matter anyway.

"Hogsmeade is somewhat near Hogwarts. It's in London. The school organizes a trip there once every two weeks. Since you're eighteen, you don't need a permission slip from a guardian to go. Are you interested in going?" I asked and when I did, I kicked myself. I was about to ask her if she would like an escort. I owed Severus a lot, but I didn't need to dedicate my life to babysitting his angst-ridden daughter. But the way Anya looked at me, I knew she would never accept an offer to go with me. Though she had put it away for now, the hatred was still there—that unreasonable hatred that had never been explained to me.

"You hate me." I said bluntly and I watched as the corners of her red lips curve slightly into a smirk.

"Yes." She answered just as bluntly and for a few seconds I was at a loss. I had expected her to stutter, stammer and blush. But no, she was not affected by my words and had only confirmed them. But I was stubborn, I felt a stab at my pride as she didn't back down from me, and I didn't want her to think she had _anything_ over me.

"Seems unreasonable to hate me. After all, for the past few months I gave you a home. Fed you, clothed you, bought your books and all your supplies. Any other orphan would be grate—" She stood up suddenly, pointing her wand at me, a look of pure hatred flashing across her eyes as her hand clutched the wand tightly. I felt fear beat through my heart, but I didn't show it. Instead I smirked, calmly crossing my legs as I leaned back, as if getting comfortable. "Going to hex me? Right on the train? You forget who I am. I'm the Head Boy, if you ever want to see your diploma—"

"I didn't forget who you are _Draconis Malfoy_." She uttered my name with such spite that I was again, surprised. As she clenched her wand tightly I had pulled out my own wand from my pocket, pointing it at her as if to duel. It was ridiculous though, we were only two feet apart in this train compartment and we could easily fall forward and merely stab each other to death with our wands. But she wasn't backing down. Instead, I could almost feel her body _radiate_ heat as she glared at me. "I'd gladly give up my diploma for a shot at the bastard child of Malfoy." She spat at me, her words coming out like daggers and her voice sounding like a deep, ringing bell. At the word 'bastard', I felt my own cool give away and I stood up abruptly, pressing my wand to her throat as I narrowed my eyes.

"_What_ did you call me?" I hissed, daring her to say such a thing again. But I saw no fear in her eyes, instead I saw a light, as if she were getting some kind of rush from all of this. She leaned forward slightly, allowing my wand to dig into her throat a little more as she pressed the tip of her wand against my chest.

"_Bastard._" She taunted now and I reared my teeth in anger about to hex her to oblivion when the compartment door suddenly opened.

"Is this—oh my." I heard the airy voice of Luna Lovegood and immediately, Anya and I had put away our wands, tucking them back under our pockets. I walked to the door of the compartment and held Anya's gaze. She looked amused. She was mocking me. I glanced back down at Lovegood and nodded in greeting, not saying a word as I brushed past her, my blood rushing to my head as I tried to control my anger.

_Who was she to call me that? Who the fuck does she think she is? That worthless orphan child of—_

_Severus._

I had almost hexed Severus' daughter. The man had given his life for me, and I couldn't even do the simple task of being nice to his daughter.

Maybe I wasn't a bastard, but I sure was an asshole.

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"I'm sorry if I interrupted something there." The girl's airy voice came and I blinked, wondering if this girl was just completely stoned. Her eyes were wide as if in constant surprise and she looked at me as if I weren't really there. Her blonde hair and blue eyes made her seem all the more like a ditz. When she sat down with the Quibbler though, reading it upside down, I was downright sure she was drugged.

"Are…you alright?" I asked the girl and she looked up from her Quibbler to smile blankly at me.

"Oh, of course I am. I was going to ask you if you were alright actually. It seemed like the Blarggies seemed to have driven you both mad with rage." She said and I blinked at her. She was stoned. I was sure of it.

"Yes..the Blarggies indeed…" I scoffed at her, crossing my arms as I looked out the window.

"I'm Luna Lovegood. I've never seen you around before, but perhaps the Dimpygmies have been making you invisible." She said and again I looked at her incredulously. Did this girl even _hear_ what was coming out of her mouth?

"Call me Anya. I only transferred here this year. No Dimpygmies have been involved." I said, sarcastically emphasizing the Dimpygmies, but she didn't seem fazed. She smiled at me and nodded.

"Well that's wonderful. I'm glad you've transferred here. You seem like a very interesting person. So you must not know what house you're sorted into yet. I'm in Ravenclaw." She said, no meanness, no hint of annoyance in her voice. In fact, she was completely sincere, so genuinely nice and happy that I immediately felt guilty for mocking her. Dipygmies and Blarggies aside, she was…a good person.

"No, I don't know what house I'll be sorted into. I don't know the difference between the four houses." I admitted and Luna smiled at me, putting her hands on her lap as she looked at me.

"Well I think they are all wonderful. They say Slytherin is evil, but I've met a lot of nice Slytherin students. Hufflepuff is for the purest of heart, Gryffindor is the house for bravery and loyalty while Ravenclaw is the house of wit and intellect."

_Wit and intellect? Had she been sorted into the wrong house?_

But as quickly as the thought had come, I pushed it away. Luna was being nice to me, there was no reason for me to think badly of her.

"What does Slytherin stand for though?" I asked and Luna shrugged.

"They say Slytherin is the house of purebloods, a house for those who are ambitious for power and cunning. But I've known several wizards and witches in that house with some muggle parents. Are you interested in joining Slytherin?" She asked curiously and I merely shrugged.

"I don't really care which house I'm sorted into." I said offhandedly and she nodded.

"I guess it doesn't really matter in the end. Where are you from?" She asked that so awkwardly that I almost laughed out loud, looking at her with a small, but genuine, smile on my face.

"America. That's why I have an accent."

"Oh that sounds wonderful. My dad wrote an article about the Gnarbles epidemic in America. Have you ever seen a Gnarble?"

"No, I haven't. Tell me, what's a Gnarble?" I asked now, interested in the odd things she believed in. She was an interesting one this girl, but I liked her. I liked her because there was nothing to be wary of. Her innocence came off in waves and her benevolence surrounded her like a beautiful aura. She was a wonderful person odd as she was.

"Gnarbles are little prankster devils that like to turn the stove on when you're not looking. They're burned quite a few houses down that way you know."

"I didn't know. But thank you."

"I like you Anya, I hope to be friends this year." I was silent at her words and found my chest swelling. She was being honest.

"Then let's be friends." I said.

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I watched her walk out of the train, talking with that loopy girl Lovegood, and for the first time since I had ever met her, I saw a smile on her face. It was a _real_ smile. She actually looked happy and unguarded, letting her emotions shine through in that pretty smile of hers.

_Pretty?_

I blinked at my own thoughts and shook my head.

Fine, she was pretty. She was more than pretty, but that constant scowl she wore ruined it all.

She was petite, tiny and fragile looking with such pale skin that it competed with the snow. And she had these wonderful, deep red lips that were such a color without any lipstick. Then her eyes…her eyes were so exotic. They were almond-shaped and Asian, but her irises were a sparkling silver-gray. They were framed by her thick, long eyelashes that batted with every blink. And her hair…her hair was so thick and so full, cascading from her shoulders in large, loose ringlets all the way down to her waist. She looked different from your average girl…she was something striking and glamorous.

But again, her glowering expression took that all away.

I approached her and she immediately stopped all conversation with Luna when she saw me, the smile dropping from her face and her hand immediately going into her robes to pull out her wand. I put up my hands to show I had no intention of hurting her.

"Like I said, I'll be taking you to McGonagall before the Sorting Ceremony. Come." I said and I watched her turn back to Luna, waving a small goodbye before she hurried to walk beside me. There was so much in her walk, the way she refused to trail behind me. It was a challenge almost, telling me that she wasn't afraid, that she was just as much an equal to walk beside me rather than behind. She wasn't intimidated by me in the least bit. I would change that, sooner or later.

We reached the Headmistress' office and rapped lightly before saying the password.

"Alakazam."

We entered and I found McGonagall patiently waiting for us, the Sorting Hat sitting quietly on her desk as she waved us to the two chairs across from her.

"Please, take a seat Mister Malfoy, Miss Alexandrova." What a mouthful that girl's last name was. Much too long for a puny thing like her.

"Now let's get started."

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I was hesitant to have that ratty thing on my head, but I've worn jeans that were much worse, so I was quiet when McGonagall put the hat over my head. Immediately, I heard a voice inside my head.

_Hmm….interesting blood line you have…._

_**What are you talking about?**_

_I remember your father, very well…in fact, he was an easy fellow to sort. _

_**Of course he was. Now tell me what house I'm in.**_

_Interesting, you're nothing like your father. You're bright like your mother though._

_**Hurry up you stupid rag.**_

_You're definitely nothing like him. You have cunning…ambition…you have a darkness inside of you that's just waiting to reach its full potential…nothing like your father._

_**What are you talking about? My father had all that…**_

_No…I know your father, I remember him quite clearly. A prankster, but a good man at heart. Loyal to the end and brave at heart…I see courage here, but I don't see the Gryffindor spirit like I did in your father._

_**My father was in Slytherin you senile hat.**_

_Whatever you say._

"Slytherin!" The hat exclaimed and I felt the hat being taken off, but its words still lingered in my head. That hat was going senile. It had Alzheimers. And yet, it had mentioned my mother. My mother was a bright one apparently. But could I trust the words of a hat that thought Severus had been sorted into Gryffindor? That had needed a tune up.

"Well, that's settled then. Mister Malfoy, please take Miss Alexandrova to the Slytherin tables, then we can begin the Sorting Ceremony in the Great Hall." She said, her sharp eyes looking me over carefully before I turned around. I stared back at her equally, trying to size up the old woman. There was something in the way she looked at me that disturbed me. It was as if my sorting into the Slytherin house wasn't something she had been expecting.

But I was the daughter of Severus Snape, of _course_ I would be sorted into Slytherin.

"At least you're not completely worthless, seeing you've been sorted into Slytherin." Draco remarked snidely as we walked down to the Great Hall. I didn't bother to look up at him, opening up the giant mahogany doors to see the larger-than-life dining hall, filled with floating candles and the smell of delicious food (that was yet to be seen). As he walked towards the Slytherin table I slowed down and opted to sit at the opposite end of where he was heading, sitting at a table less crowded and ignoring the intrigued looks of my colleagues.

"Hey, haven't seen you around before. Name's Blaise. Blaise Zabini."

"Anya. Nice to meet you." I said, shaking the hand of a brooding male, dark hair and matching eyes. His skin looked sallow as if he had been malnourished for a week and there were dark circles under his eyes. I wasn't one to judge though, so I smiled at him before listening to the Sorting Ceremony begin.

After all the first years had been sorted I watched McGonagall step up and hold up her hands for silence throughout the Great Hall. The hush fell over the crowd like a cursed fog and she pursed her lips together, looking around the room, as if making eye contact with every single student in the hall. Well, I could have sworn she had looked at me at least.

"We have suffered a great deal from the past war. We had to close down the doors of Hogwarts for a year and we lost two brilliant Headmasters. I am your Headmistress, McGonagall. I am standing as the temporary Headmistress until a new one is appointed permanently. I want to address everyone in this hall, those who are new, and those who have been lucky enough to return." She paused and I saw something glitter in her eyes. Tears. She was holding them back as she cleared her throat, taking a moment to gather herself.

"We have all suffered. Every single one of our lives had been touched by the war. Some of you may like to believe it had never happened, some of you may like to try and forget that it had ever existed…but the smiling faces of each one of you that I see here, is the proof that the war did happen. You are the proof that there is a light at the other end of the tunnel. You are the proof that life will go on and with each generation, improve to make it better. There is brilliance in every student, whether or not you choose to find it and cultivate is your choice, but here at Hogwarts, we give you the opportunity. And with that said, eat!" She said, clapping her hands twice.

I was amazed by the alacrity of the food. I didn't know where it came from or how it kept refilling itself, but it was all delicious. I looked to Blaise who seemed to mull around with his food, pushing it around with his fork.

"Is the food not to your liking Zabini?" I teased, using his last name to address him. He looked up as if startled and grinned, shrugging his shoulders as he waved at the food.

"I guess not. Too excited to eat you know." He said, but his face told me he was lying. It wasn't hard to tell. The small furrow of his brows, the nervous twitch of his left hand, the slight tug of his lips to the side. I knew when somebody was lying. I had years of practice telling them and catching them.

"Your name is familiar. Zabini…I've heard it before…" I said, trailing off as I racked my brain, but the moment I said it, his face turned stony. He looked up at me like a frightened child and pressed his lips tightly together.

"Probably in the Prophet…" He grumbled and when he said it, I remembered.

_Algorus Zabini and Laurie Zabini have been sent to Azkaban to receive the Dementor's kiss for being found as supporters of The Dark Lord. Their crimes include arson, theft, homicide, 3__rd__ degree murder and assault._

I looked back to my plate of food, suddenly not hungry as well.

So, another son of a Death Eater. But unlike Draco, I could see how the war had taken its toll on him. He was like a skeleton, his skin sticking to the little meat he had on his bones. I felt pity for him then. In his eyes there was a look of utter hopelessness and loss. He was lost, he was alone and the way he frequently glanced around the table at the others around him, I knew he was fearful. But of what? The war was over wasn't it? What could he be afraid of now?

"Oops! Didn't see you there _Zabini_." Came a hiss and I looked up to see a Gryffindor student who had completely gone out of his way to pass by Blaise and spill his entire dinner on his head. I stood up immediately to reprimand him but paused at seeing Blaise, who had no expression on his face whatsoever.

"Ten points from Gryffindor. Barteby, get back to your own table before I give you detention." Malfoy's voice came, strongly and calmly. He walked over and the Gryffindor who was just as tall at him glared back, smirking before he walked away.

"Oh, of course _sir._ Don't worry Zabini, you can just ask your mum for a new set of robes—oh wait, nevermind, can't do that can you?" He called over his shoulder and my mouth was ajar at the open cruelty of the house that was supposed to represent the good, the strong, the brave…I waved my wand and the spilled food disappeared from Zabini's clothes, though the smell remained. I sat back down and put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look me in the eye as I tried to read his expression.

"Are you alright? I'm sorry I can't get rid of the smell, I'm not too good with these spells—"

"I'm fine." Was all he said before he stood up abruptly, walking out of the Great Hall with such speed that I was unsure of what had just happened. I looked back towards Malfoy, but he had already returned to his seat, resuming conversation with his peers, obviously having forgotten the entire incident. But I didn't forget, I refused to forget. I glared at the Gryffindor table and gripped my wand, mumbling something under my breath. When I heard screams erupting from the Gryffindor table I smiled, inconspicuously leaving the Great Hall in search of Blaise.

I ran up to the Slytherin Common Rooms and stopped at the portrait before me. What had the password been again?

"Parseltongue." The portrait swung open and I stepped in, not seeing anyone in here. But where else could Blaise have gone? I ran up to the boys dormitory to see only one bed with the curtains closed all around. I slowly walked to it and peeled back the curtain, my body freezing at what I saw.

The belt was tightened right above his elbow and a syringe was carelessly tossed to his side. His eyes were wide and blank when they looked at me. He didn't react though, merely watching me as he lay there.

"Blaise! What? What did you do?!" I was almost hysterical at the sight before me. The last time I had encountered heroin was in the darkest recesses of Russian poverty. I had thought I would never witness this again, but here I was. I heard footsteps coming up the stairs to the dormitory and I quickly took the syringe and disposed of it with a flick of my wand. I untied the belt around his arm and tossed it to the ground. Quickly I climbed into the bed with him and pulled the curtains back so nobody could see him or me.

"Blaise…Blaise…" I whispered and he barely responded, looking up at me in a euphoric state, a smile played on his lips as his eyes looked wildly around him. As I studied his arm, I knew this wasn't the first time he had done this. In fact, he had been doing this for quite a long time. This wasn't happening. My first night at Hogwarts and I was sitting in bed with a heroin addict. Life was twisted in its humor.

"Blaise…" I whispered his name again, but he didn't care. There was nothing I could do for him now. I had never seen wizards use muggle drugs…in fact, this was the first time I had ever witnessed this. Wizards had a lot more…methods at their disposal. They could give themselves highs without any of the physical repercussions…but here Blaise was.

It was self-destruction.

I didn't know how he came to discover the drug, but I knew it wasn't just for the high. He was slowly trying to kill himself.

I wanted nothing to do with this.

I didn't care if he had his issues and was a suicidal teen. That was his problem.

I carefully peeled back the poster-curtains to see if anyone was walking around. When I saw the coast was clear I quickly walked out, thinking I was scot free when I ran out the dormitory to the stairs. There, I crashed into an all-too-familiar someone.

"Oomph!" I had run into something that felt like a solid wall and when I looked up I was suddenly speechless.

"Already mingling in the boys' dormitories?" He taunted me and I narrowed my eyes at him, pushing past him to go down the stairs. He quickly moved though, blocking my way once more.

"Why were you there? You have no business in the boys dorm because you don't even know anyone yet. What were you doing?" He interrogated me, his eyes suspicious as he looked me over. Again, I decided not to answer him and this time dodged him, running down the stairs to get away from him.

My father had once told me that one of the greatest weaknesses of Gryffindors was their innate stupidity to believe that everyone's problems were their own. This would eventually lead to broken emotions and unnecessary complications. He had taught me that every person has their own issues and if they couldn't make it through on their own, then it was their own fault. If a person couldn't live through his own issues, then he was too weak for this world.

Zabini had his own issues. It was none of my damn business for sure. I didn't want to complicate my life with his pathetic one.

The war had messed everyone up.

It wasn't my duty to pick up the pieces.

I had enough trouble picking up my own.

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"Have you seen Zabini? He looks downright awful now. He used to be such a handsome boy too." Pansy said, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger as she stared at the sallow looking boy who was a few seats down from her. I chose not to answer.

Zabini _did_ look awful though. His eyes seem to have sunken back into his skull, his skin was pale and yellow, his hair was falling out and he had lost his physique entirely. He looked like a skeleton of the man he once used to be. That smirk, the arrogant pride that he was notorious for, had disappeared. He was no longer the handsome playboy he used to be, no longer the authoritative figure he had posed as before. He was _nothing_ now.

I glanced at Pansy before I thought about how she had changed. She had gone into the war and come out of it no different. She had gained a few pounds since I had last seen her, but since her parents had only been sympathizers rather than outright Death Eaters, her family had suffered no repercussions. She was still the pug-faced, bratty little bitch she always was. And with the celebrity status of my mother's new book, she was still clinging onto me, wanting power, wanting status…wanting money. Fucking golddigger.

"Drakey, I haven't seen your mother in _ages_. Maybe we should have our families spend Christmas together!" She suggested and I shot her a look that completely tore that idea out of her head.

"Stop calling me that. And I can't, I've already made plans." I said in a bored tone, forcing myself not to look at Anya who had just walked in, taking a seat next to Lovegood as we awaited our new Potions teacher. I hadn't mentioned Anya to anyone, moreso because the topic of her never had come up before. I couldn't help now but stare at Anya, she was conversing quietly with Blaise, but about what I couldn't hear. She had tied up her hair into a loose ponytail today, a few messy locks hanging by the sides of her face. Stupid girls and their stupid hair.

"Drakey baby, who are you staring at? Oh, that girl." Pansy's face suddenly fell and I looked at Pansy, now interested at her sullen demeanor.

"I was only zoning off. But you don't seem to like 'that girl', something happen?" I asked and Pansy bit her lower lips, clenching her fists as she glared at Anya, narrowing her eyes as if to shoot laser beams at the girl.

"That little bint took _my_ bed. The one all the way in the corner with its own private window. I told her to move it and she told me…she told _me_ to fuck off! Who the hell does she think she is?" She blurted indignantly, crossing her arms above her chest in a huff. My, Pansy's bosom had grown quite the amount. But then again, so did her ass and her muffin top.

"She happens to be—" I stopped midsentence as Anya whirled around, shooting me an eerily penetrating look. I found myself unable to finish my sentence when she looked at me, and her expression had told me not to elaborate. I didn't understand how she conveyed so much in just one look. Pansy looked at me inquisitively before shooting another glare in Anya's direction. Anya had already turned back around now, unable to see whatever little obscene gestures Pansy was making towards her.

"She happens to be what?" Pansy asked curiously and I leaned my head against my hand as I stared at the chalkboard.

"She happens to be a bitch. That's what." I finished and Pansy seemed to have been satisfied with my answer, wholeheartedly agreeing as the Dungeon doors opened, the sound of footsteps trailing the way.

Her cloak billowed behind her as this woman, our new Potions professor, walked in. She stood behind the desk and dropped a large textbook onto it, looking around the room with beady eyes as she studied each student.

"Slytherin and Ravenclaw in this class then. Well, let's get to it. I'm only a year-long professor, but I am more than adequate of teaching you the NEWT level Potions. My name is Professor Wilson. I will warn you right now, if you have only been skimming by the past few years, you will _not_ make it through this class. And you most definitely won't pass your NEWTs. Professor Snape left a good reputation as a Potions Master, but I understand that your last Potions professor was Slughorn and his time…he has long been past his prime. Now open your textbooks to page 451 and we will start."

"Who can tell me the essential ingredient in making the Pardon's Potion?" She asked.

_The magnolia leaf._

"Anyone?" She asked again and I watched a tentative Hufflepuff raise his hand.

"You."

"The tail of newt?" He answered shyly and I saw a frown curve the professor's lip.

"Incorrect. Anyone else?"

"The magnolia leaf." I said, and Professor Wilson smiled, turning around to the chalkboard and quickly jotting it down.

"Correct! 5 points to Slytherin. Now…" I didn't listen to the rest of her lecture. The first day of classes were always a bother.

When class ended I rushed out, not wanting to take another moment of that droll professor's teachings. As I walked down the hallway I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning around I actually had to look down to see who had tapped me.

"May I have a word with you?" Anya asked, gritting her teeth as if it were painful to speak to me. Again, I was amazed at her lack of a Russian accent. In fact, it sounded so American that I wondered if she had gone to some type of international school.

"Sure."

"In private." She said, walking towards one of the more abandoned corridors. I followed, checking the time to make sure I wasn't going to be late for my next class. When she stopped and looked around, she took a deep breath.

"I want to ask of you one thing…just one." She said slowly, and I crossed my arms, intrigued now. She was asking for a favor now?

"What is it? Why should I?" I asked in a bored tone, but inside I was incredibly curious. What could she possibly ask of me? She glared at me and clenched her fists once before relaxing, taking another deep breath before she looked back up at me.

"Don't tell anyone who I am. Don't tell anyone you know me or who my father was. I'm a transfer student from America. We have no connection to each other." She said and I blinked at her request. Why did she want to keep that a secret?

"Fine. But you have to do something for me in return."


	4. Starting Something New

That Malfoy git. He was a git alright. Albeit a smart one.

For the next week I had subtly been praising his name, spreading mysterious rumors about him and his family. He was turning into the tragic hero, a mystery within a mystery—the girls ate it up, the boys respected him. I had spread stories about how his mother had fallen ill during the War and that Draco had been the one to singlehandedly nurse her back to health. Supposedly, this was the reason he had changed to the good side, seeing how the Dark Lord wasn't going to help his own supporters.

Then there was another story, that Draco's father had put him under the Imperius curse and it had taken that long for Draco to break free of it along with his mother. This story was followed by another one, which included an epic fight between father and son. Supposedly, that was the reason why Lucius was in St. Mungo's now.

As for those who had supported the Death Eaters, I had disguised myself and gotten into deep conversations with them. I spread the idea that Malfoy was being _incredibly_ Slytherin. He had seen that they were losing, so to save his own skin and come out on top, he switched sides at the last minute. This cunning move was admired by all Slytherins. They had agreed that it was the smartest thing to have done.

The only one who did not listen to these stories was Zabini.

And there was just a plethora of rumors that flew about thanks to me. In no time, Draco had regained status at the top of the food chain, ensuring his dominance over the school once again. I felt disgusted at having helped create this monster of a being and every time I passed by him in the hallways, I was tempted to stick my foot out and trip that sorry sod of a man. Would it have killed him to go through one year of being a normal human? Would it have hurt that much to have gone through his last year of Hogwarts as a nobody like the rest of us? What was it about him that he needed to always be at the top of the social ladder? It provided him with nothing but with an empty shell of power and popularity.

I wanted to bring this man down to nothing.

From the very moment I had met this arrogant bastard, he was everything I had expected him to be. His broad, proud shoulders, which stood like a man that had been bred from only the purest, they walked around without the weight of a single trouble in the world. And then there was his flawless skin, the pale, smooth silk that stretched across the asshole inside, covering it up like a nicely wrapped pile of bullshit. His hair, the blond perfection of rich people who had too much time on their hands. And the way he looked at me the first time we met. It was shock, pity and guilt…how dare he look at me like that? Was I some type of abandoned dog ? Was I a homeless orphan that had no choice but to accept his pity?

Before I had even met him, I hated this boy. I hated everything he stood for. Everything he had done…to me…to Severus—no, I refused to think of that now.

And here I was, having brought him up to the top of the social ladder.

Why did I spread those rumors then? Why did I help him get to the top again?

Because I had given him my word, and my word is never broken. And besides, it was only a minor bump in the road.

I watched him from the other end of the Slytherin table at breakfast. He no longer put gel in his hair and let his platinum blond locks fall messily into place. His crystal blue eyes always sparkled when the rays of the sun hit him through the windows, and when he looked around, I could swear that his own blue eyes gave off some kind of light. But I wasn't the only one who noticed his physical features, every day, girls crowded around Draco, touching his hair, asking him if he'd like to go to Hogsmeade with them…and he took it all in stride. He made a show of it, pretending to think it over with each girl and waiting to announce just who he would be taking to Hogsmeade as if the entire thing were a contest and he, the prize.

Some prize.

There was a pattern to the girls he chose though. They were always beautiful…always like him. They all had beautiful blonde hair and flawless makeup, sparkling light eyes and pouty lips.

That was it!!!

I searched the Great Hall, scanning every female face until I found one.

She was gorgeous underneath those glasses.

She was perfect.

She was another Ravenclaw girl with these fantastic green eyes and shoulder length blonde hair that was unnaturally straight and scraggly. She had these incredibly thick lenses that covered half of her face. I stood up and walked over to the Ravenclaw table, smiling to Luna before I sat down next to her. I don't believe any of the Slytherins noticed my relocation, they tend not to notice me period. Luna wrapped her little arms around me before introducing me to the others at the table.

"Hello Anya! I'm so happy you've decided to sit with me for breakfast. This is Anna, Anna this is Anya. Oh don't you both have similar names!" Luna said excitedly and I held out my hand for this girl to take. She awkwardly shook my hand, turning red from attention and mumbling something under her breath that sounded something like 'hello nice to meet you'. When she let go I took one more good look at her face.

She was gorgeous…or at least, she had the potential to be gorgeous. If I took away those glasses and did something with that hair…she would be a knockout.

"Yes, a pleasure to meet you Anna. Luna, are you going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" I asked, looking up and smiling again at Anna. She gave a half-hearted smile in return before burying her nose back into a book. What an awkward girl she was. It was no wonder she wasn't known around the school.

"Oh yes! Neville asked me to go with him!" She said and the smile faltered on my face. Luna picked up on it immediately, tilting her head as she looked at me. "Did you want to go with me? I could just ask Neville—"

"Luna, please no. Neville asked you to go with him as his date. A third wheel isn't exactly proper."

"But you'll be lonely—"

"I'm old enough to be on my own Luna. Don't worry about it, have fun."

"Oh…okay…but you can always join us if you feel like it." She said, her voice full of kindness. I felt a pang in my chest, this little twinge of guilt for having only come here to get closer to Anna. But it was alright, I did sincerely want to ask her to go to Hogsmeade with me. I gathered my backpack again, getting up and brushing slightly against Anna.

"Oops, sorry Anna. I'll see you some other time, it'd be nice to hang out with you. Bye Luna, see you later." I said, my comment having completely taken Anna off guard. I smiled before turning around, shouldering my backpack before I left them. Today was going to be the first day of a certain…class.

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I had taken this class as an easy credit course, something that would push me to the right amount of classes while not really taxing my time. When I strolled in I saw an odd assortment of stragglers. Several Slytherin students had taken this course, having the same mentality as I did, then there were a few Gryffindors, including Granger who seemed to have been genuinely interested in the subject. There were a few Hufflepuffs as well, but no Ravenclaws in sight. Well…naturally, no Ravenclaw would be caught dead in a _music_ class.

I avoided Granger's gaze as she sat down a few seats down from me. The room was like a theatre, a stage in front of us where all the instruments were housed and the seats surrounding this stage. To my great irritation, Parkinson sat down next to me, a smug grin on her face as she whispered to me.

"_My mother has been paying for my violin lessons since I was like…five. This class should be a piece of cake. It said no musical experience necessary."_ She whispered and I snorted in agreement. My mother had done the same thing, paying for the violin as well as the piano. I glanced up briefly to see an unexpected face walk into the room, sitting all the way in the corner by her lonesome. Perhaps she had taken this course for easy credit as well.

"Attention! My name is Professor Ivanovna." Came a thundering voice and I almost jumped up at the viciousness this voice had for a woman. I looked up to see a thin woman, bony even, a large scarf wrapped around her shoulders as she ascended the stage, standing above us in a towering manner while she held her arms to herself, looking at us down her nose. This oddly reminded me of my mother. She must have been in her fifties and the years had not treated her kindly. The wrinkles were etched out into her eyes and there were several rings on her skeleton-like hands.

"I see the assortment of students in this class, and trust me, there is _always_ an odd assortment in this class. We only offer it to 7th years for a reason. As this is the year during which each one of you thinks about your career, we offer one music course as an alternative. This is not your mother's electronic keyboard class, you don't press all the right buttons and get an O. Don't think this is my first time teaching this course." Her slitted eyes swept over the room, taking in each and every student before she resumed her speech.

"I know there will always be those students who coast through this class thinking it'll be a piece of cake because they've had their parents to coddle them and pay for music lessons from the womb. But this course, I will be teaching you what music _truly_ is in the wizarding world. I can teach you how to play it, but only you can put the magic in the music. Now tell me, who can tell me who Tchaikovsky is?" She asked and of course, Granger's hand went straight up into the air. Professor Ivanovna nodded her head.

"Yes, you."

"Tchaikovsky was the famous Russian composer of the 1800s. His most famous works include Sleeping Beauty, the Nutcracker, Swan Lake and the 1812 Overture."

"Correct. Five points to Gryffindor. Now can someone tell me why he was famous in both the Muggle World and the Wizarding World? It is not because of his mastery of composition." She added and I watched as Granger's hand fell down, a puzzled look on her face. At this the Professor smiled, uncrossing her arms as she walked to the piano.

"Tchaikovsky himself was a wizard. Music in the wizarding world is not just pretty sounds or the mastery of instrument. It is the emotion, the magic in the musician himself that touches each and every soul who hears it. Who can play a small composition on the piano for me?" She asked and Pansy's hand next to me shot up into the air.

"You, Miss Parkinson correct? Come up, play me something." She said and Pansy smiled haughtily at the class before standing up and joining the professor up on the stage. She sat on the piano bench and stretched her hands, making a slight show for the rest of us before she began.

And she played, she played Moonlight Sonata and she played it perfectly. Her fingers hit the correct keys on the right beat and at the correct volume. When she finished the professor nodded, gesturing for Pansy to stand up again.

"Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Wonderfully played Miss Parkinson. Now let me show you the difference between listening to the music and _feeling_ it."

From the very moment the professor's fingers touched the keys, there was something different in the air.

It was like the air was being slowly sucked out of my lungs and something else was being breathed into them. My chest swelled and my head reeled as I heard the same melody Pansy had just played going through my head. With every crescendo I could feel my heart beating faster, with every verse I could feel my chest expanding and deflating. I felt sadness, the kind that twisted your insides in one long, slow motion, as if unraveling the very fibers of your body until you bled away to nothing. But then I felt a gloom, a sort of nighttime darkness that clouded my vision. My body was weightless and—

Suddenly, it stopped.

I blinked, coming out of my reverie. I hadn't been the only one who had been completely swept away by that and as I looked around, I could see the stunned faces of the other students telling me that they had not been expecting this. Professor Ivanovna stood up and bowed, and I found myself clapping with the rest of the class, unable to really think about what had just happened.

"That, is what music is. A true musician in the wizarding world will be able to share her soul with you, wrap you and drown you in it. This is a special type of magic. True musicians are often sought for in this world because attending their concerts gives a kind of…high. Sadly, there are only very few who ever pursue this career and even fewer who turn out to be true musicians. But those who turn out to be true musicians are like the golden apples of this world; Making millions upon millions as people come to listen to them, trying to find an escape from their otherwise droll and painful lives." She said with a somewhat wicked smirk. She made me uneasy with her stare and her little smile. She turned to Pansy and waved her to sit back down. When Pansy sat down next to me her face was pale and her lips were trembling. I grinned and leaned to her, whispering somewhat evilly into her ear.

"Professor Ivanovna give you a scare?" I whispered and Pansy shot me a look that said 'shut up'. But of course, who was I to heed such things?

"This is what this course is about, cultivating the magic inside of you and using music as the medium. If you came here to show off your technical skills, I recommend that you leave right now. I am not one to be fooled with." She said sternly and I watched as a few students stood up and awkwardly shuffled out of the classroom. Pansy leaned over and whispered to me.

"Are you staying?"

"Yeah." I answered back, now feeling stubborn about this. I glanced around the room and saw that Granger and Anya had stayed as well. Pansy bit her lip and looked from me to the teacher as if torn in deciding whether or not she thought it'd be worth it. Finally, she took one last look at me and stayed. God damn it. The professor looked around the room again and smiled, clapping her hands together as if pleased with the deteriorated number of students.

"Wonderful. Now we will be partnering up. Let's see here, first I'll do roll call to see who's left. Ana—"

"Here." Anya interrupted before the professor could even get past the second syllable of her name. The professor arched an eyebrow but continued on anyway, not too bothered by the promptness.

"Elizabeth Andrews? Nope. Betty Carter?"

"Present."

And so it went on, there were only ten remaining students left in the class and when she finished role call she started to walk around the room, pairing students up. Of course, I got stuck with Pansy for the simple fact that we were sitting next to each other.

"The first project will be to make a short composition with your partner. It should be a minimum of two minutes in length when played. You may choose an arrangement for your instruments, or you may only use one instrument. I will leave that to your discretion. Getting comfortable with composing is an essential step, I would like to see where each of you stands with your usage of music. There is composition parchment on my desk for you to take. You may start now, I will be walking around to see what each of your thoughts are."

Did I even remember what a b flat looked like?

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My insides had frozen when the professor had partnered me up with none other than Hermione Granger. She looked somewhat nervous as she approached me, dropping her large bookbag on the floor next to her as she extended her hand.

"Hi. Hermione Granger. Nice to meet you…I didn't quite catch your name during roll call." She said, giving me a smile. I wondered if she knew just how much I disliked her already. I took her hand anyway though, forcing a smile on my face as I looked into her brown eyes.

"Call me Anya. Have you ever worked with music before?" I asked and she shook her head, opening the music textbook and flipping through the pages at an impossible rate.

"No, I thought this class would be something like the theory of music. I was curious to take the class that hadn't been offered to me the other years of Hogwarts. It's always good to learn something new. I've never been too good with instruments though. How about you? Are you musical at all?"

"Not really. Had a few lessons here and there. I was curious about the class as well." I said but I could tell that Hermione wasn't particularly listening to what I was saying, but what I sounded like. I knew what question she was going to ask next.

"Excuse me if I'm being rude, but you're not from around here correct?"

"Correct."

"I thought so…your accent is a bit off. Where are you from?"

"America."

"Since you're in this class you must be a 7th year as well. I haven't seen you around before."

"I just transferred this year. My old school closed down due to a lack of funds."

"Oh I see…well I'm glad to have you here then, shall we get started?"

_No. In fact, I would like nothing more than to take a handful of that bushy hair of yours and rip it—_

"Yes, let's."

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"Hermione, you've been working on that blasted composition all night. Let's go to bed." Ron whined, burying his head into my shoulder, causing his hair to tickle my nose. I giggled and shoved him to sit upright, looking over the composition again. It just wasn't right. No, not even that, it just wasn't good.

"Ron stop it..I'll come to bed soon. I just…Anya did all the work so far and I'd feel awful if I couldn't contribute even a single measure to the composition." I said in frustration, tapping my quill against my forehead as if trying to shake out some sort of epiphany. Ron raised an eyebrow and let me be, sitting up to talk to Harry who was leaning against the table I was working on.

"Anya? I've heard of her before…I think. New transfer student right?" Ron asked, tapping his chin with his finger.

"How did you hear about her? I didn't even notice her until today."

"Actually, she's in a few of our classes. I've seen her in our Transfiguration and Charms classes. She'll probably be in our Defense Against the Dark Arts class too this coming Monday." Harry said thoughtfully and at this I raised both of my eyebrows. Harry had never been observant before.

"Oh? And you've been watching her?" I teased and Harry's face immediately turned red. Ron frowned at this and the lighthearted mood I had attempted to create immediately turned for the worse.

"You haven't been watching her Harry have you? I mean…you like Ginny. Ginny likes you and I thought—"

"Ron, I haven't. Hermione's just joking. I just happened to notice her." Harry said in his defense and Ron didn't push it. But I picked up on the fact that Harry mentioned nothing about his situation with Ginny.

"Now that I think about it…I've seen her with Luna a bunch. I think they're friends." I said, thinking it over. Yes. I had seen her with Luna before. I looked down at the composition in front of me again and grew frustrated once more. Anya had done most of the composing while I had written it all down. We had decided to simply compose for the piano as that was the easiest way to go about our project. I couldn't even remember the melody that we had gone through.

_Maybe I should just drop this course. It's not like it __**really**__ matters._

"Alright, let's go to bed." I said in defeat, stuffing the composition into my backpack as I got up with Ron. Harry waved us goodnight, saying that he was going to stay up a bit longer to work on his Potions essay. Ron said goodnight and I paused for a moment before I went up with Ron.

We hadn't been assigned any Potions essay.

I glanced at Harry but found myself being pulled up to the dormitories by Ron, eager to spend the night with him.

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I looked down at the business card in my hand.

_**Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes**_

_**George Weasley**_

_**President**_

_**299 Dragon Boulevard, Hogsmeade**_

_**London, UK**_

I smiled at the memory of the charming redhead. I was nervously folding his card in half, clutching it in my hand as I stood on the corner of this unfamiliar street by myself. I looked around, seeing other Hogwarts students paired off or in groups, walking around and happily chatting. Hell, I had even seen Draco walking through with a girl on his arm. I stood outside of the Three Broomsticks, trying to muster the courage to actually go and visit the red head. Would it be considered flirting if I did see him? Would I be hinting at the possibility of me being interested in him romantically if I went there and—

Well, of course it would hint that.

But I had nothing better to do right? I could always just stand here awkwardly until it was time to go back to Hogwarts. No! I was here. I could do it. I took a few steps and stopped outside Madame Puddifoot's teashop. I quickly checked my reflection in the window, trying to see if I were presentable. I had chosen to wear a light gold sundress that shimmered in the sunlight along with a pair of four-inch, round-toed, off-white heels. Had I gone overboard in dressing up? My makeup wasn't heavy, I had only applied a little bit after all and just around the eyes. Or what about my hair? Should I have tied it up instead of letting it down? —

Breathe.

Stop.

Breathe.

It was like I had forgotten who I was and where I had come from. I was a girl with pride and dignity. I was a girl who was intelligent and had gone through more than most wizards ever did in a lifetime. I was not afraid of visiting a boy named George Weasley.

Now I walked with confidence, taking decent strides in my heels, walking comfortably as my feet molded to the expensive shoes. The card was still clutched tightly in my hand.

"Oh! Forget Zonko's. You should go to Weasley's if you want a real prank!" I heard a couple of first years excitedly conversing in front of me. I smirked, intrigued by the fame of this shop. A prank shop couldn't make that much money could it? I kept walking, moving past the first years and approaching the building.

_299 Dragon Boulevard. Here I am._

I stood to the side of the entrance, my nerves now coming back in one giant wave of insecurity. Had I overdressed? Maybe I shouldn't have come here the very _first_ Hogsmeade trip. What if that made me look pathetic?

I jumped slightly as several students exited the shop, bags full of goodies as they excitedly discussed what they were going to do with their new mischievous devices.

_Just go in._

I opened the door and walked in tentatively, looking up to see that George was conversing with a few students, exchanging money and goods with a smile.

_He hasn't noticed me yet. I could still just turn around and leave and do this another time—_

Too late.

He looked up and I watched his smile falter and his face take on an expression of surprise. But as he recognized me, the smile was back, bigger than before.

I slowly walked up to the counter and awkwardly waved to the boy who was looking up at George expectantly, waiting for his change.

"I think you better give him his change before he accuses you of cheating him." I said smoothly. That was surprising, I sure didn't feel smooth at all inside. I was nervous as all hell.

"Oh, right. Here Colin. Thanks for your business, come back soon mate!" He called out as the boy left. He turned back to me and leaned on the counter with his elbows, looking up at me with that mischievous little smile that I found myself adoring more and more by the second.

"Well well…I didn't actually think you'd come and visit." He said and I smirked. I needed to stop smirking.

"Why? Your pick up lines don't work on all the other women?" I teased and George shrugged.

"Maybe, maybe not. I don't see any other woman here though. So all my attention is on you!" I rolled my eyes but couldn't help but laugh at his words. His lighthearted humor was like a breath of fresh air.

"Alright _Mister_ Weasley. Now that I'm here, what do you propose we do?" I asked, taking a seat on top of his counter while I fiddled with one of the pens in a cup.

"I wouldn't—"

**BANG!!!!**

I nearly fell off the counter as the pen exploded into a cloud of confetti. George had supported me, his hand on my back to hold me up. He started chuckling and I followed suit, soon breaking out into laughter as I tried to clean some of the confetti off of me.

"I'm so sorry George. I'll clean this mess up and pay for that pen—"

"Don't even think about it. A little confetti makes the shop look livelier anyway. The pen is on the house. How about we go to lunch? It's about time anyway." He said and I nodded, a little too aware of his warm touch that was now falling to my lower back. I jumped off of the counter and he offered his arm for me to take.

"Well now pretty lady, let's have a fantastic meal."

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"Harry! Come on! Let's go visit George! Maybe we could pick something up to unleash on the first years." Ron said with a grin and Hermione whacked his arm, a stern look across her face.

"Ron! You and Harry are both Prefects! How could you even think of doing such things?" Hermione admonished him and I grinned wryly at this. Indeed, Ron and I were Prefects, but we were probably the worst prefects in the history of Hogwarts. After the war, all the small things seemed to petty to pay any attention to and we had approached everything with such a laissez-faire attitude. The students we had caught wandering the school after hours were just warned to go to bed on time, the ones who had pulled pranks were only admonished not to hurt anyone. I don't think even between the both of us, we had given out a single detention, not even when I had caught Ashley Watts of Slytherin turning another girl's hair grotesquely purple.

"Come on Hermione. We could visit George anyway." I said and Hermione turned and wagged her finger at me, momentarily reminding me of Mrs. Weasley as she did so. I should have kept my mouth shut because she was about to round on me next. Ron exchanged a sympathetic glance with me, foreseeing what was about to happen.

"I'm all for visiting and supporting George, but you're a Prefect as well you know. Besides, where's Ginny? Why didn't you ask her to Hogsmeade? She was hurt when she realized you weren't going to ask her." She said and I flinched at her words. Underneath her words I heard her thoughts.

_Why are you here with Ron and me when you could be on a date with Ginny? Ron and I need some time alone too you know._

But of course, Hermione loved me too much to ever say something like that out loud.

"It had just slipped my mind. I forgot."

"It hasn't been an easy year for adjusting for any of us. It's okay Harry, I understand. I think Ginny's at Three Broomsticks though if you want to meet up with her." She said. What she really meant was: _Go to her Harry, that way we can all go and have our individual dates._

"Yeah sure. I'm going to go visit George first before I see Ginny though." I said, having a hard time keeping the irritation out of my voice.

"C'mon mate. We want to visit George too. We'll come with you then we'll go spend time with our ladies right?" Ron said with a big smile and Hermione smiled as well, taking Ron's arm and leading the way to George's shop. I stayed a few feet behind them, watching as they happily walked alongside each other. Through the war they had found each other, had finally come to admit their feelings and start their relationship. It was a beautiful relationship of unconditional love through friendship and romance. They had spent all these years together, and now they were taking their first steps into a whole other realm—one that I couldn't step foot into. And so this is where I was left behind. It was still the Golden Trio, but within this trio had stemmed a couple that didn't include me. I could see it all happening already. They would get married and have a happy family together. Unless I married Ginny, this trio would break apart and drift in separate directions.

We weren't living in that world where everything could be done by the three of us together anymore. Ron and Hermione would build their own life together and I would be a friend to that life…but I wouldn't be a _part _of it.

Every day my guilt had grown. I knew Ginny was waiting for me, waiting for me to initiate the relationship now that the war was over. I had told her that it had been for her protection that we didn't get together during the war. She had understood and had faithfully waited for me. Now, it was all over and I had my chance. The opportunity screamed at me to take it, to be with her and be happy.

But I couldn't do it.

"Oi Harry! Hurry up!" Ron called out and I grinned, jogging up to catch them when the three of us saw George opening his shop and walking in…with a girl?

"Hey! George's got a date!" Ron said evilly, grinning wickedly as he tugged Hermione to walk faster towards the shop. I was curious as well, jogging up with them and opening the door of the shop. The bell tinkered and when we entered I felt my insides freeze.

"Hey George who's the--" Ron was about to ask, but it seemed that his voice was caught in his throat when the girl turned around. She was holding hands with George and as her gaze fell upon us…I couldn't see a single hint of happiness in it. In fact, when her gaze washed over us, her smile had immediately fallen off of her face. Then, when she looked at me, I almost took a step back from the way she looked at me.

She hated me.

I was sure of it.

"Hey guys. This is Anya. Anya this is—"

"Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and Harry…_Potter._" Our names rolled off of her tongue like spit. The way she said 'Potter' was oddly reminiscent of someone I once knew. I couldn't put my finger on it, but the way she said my last name…someone had said it just like her—

"Hahaha! Your impression of Snape was uncanny! That was exactly how he used to say Potter." George said, laughing as he smiled at her. I saw the shock flit across her eyes but she was a fantastic actress, she smiled widely and started to giggle, looking at me with that insincere smile. Glancing to Ron and Hermione, I was pretty sure they knew nothing was amiss. But yes, it was Snape she had reminded me of. Snape had said Potter exactly the way she just had.

"Have you guys met before? Since you know their names already." George asked and Any shrugged.

"Who doesn't know their names? The Boy Who Lived and the Golden Trio. You'd be hard pressed to find a single wizard or witch who wasn't familiar with their names." She said, waving off the matter. Her manner had completely changed. She was no longer relaxed, instead she was rigid, frequently glancing at each of us in turn.

"It's nice to see you outside of class Anya." Hermione ventured and Anya smiled. But I could see the distaste in the way she looked at Hermione. Why wasn't anyone else picking up on this?

"Indeed." Her reply was curt and George put an arm around her shoulders.

"How did you guys meet? I mean, you're not in Hogwarts anymore. Did she come to the shop before?" Ron asked and George shook his head.

"Nope. I actually saw Anya in Diagon Alley. You guys were there too, except she kind of ran away before she got to meet you all. It was at that ice-cream place, I saw the pretty darling and decided to give it the old Weasley go." He winked and for the first time, I saw a sincere smile grace Anya's features. She was strikingly pretty. Her hair was so dark that it looked black. Her lashes were long and batted like butterflies while her lips were these rose red things that seemed painted on. But it was her eyes that got me. These, sparkling, grey eyes that reminded me of hardened steel. They contrasted everything about her and I couldn't help but be drawn to stare at them.

"I have to go. Bye George."

"When will I see you ag—" She hadn't even stayed to listen to George. She had pretty much run out of the store, giving me one last look of spite before she ran off, leaving all of us somewhat befuddled. George scratched his head and looked at the closed door oddly.

"Hm…she was great when we were out at lunch. Maybe she just doesn't like you three. Can't blame you, you guys are horribly annoying…I mean Harry here won't ever die.." George joked and I grinned, shrugging as I looked around his store. Hermione seemed disturbed.

"I actually don't think she likes us at all. I'm doing a music project with her and she's basically asked to do it by herself. Now that I think about it, does anyone know her full name?" She asked and I thought it over as well. It was true, I had never heard her last name.

"No clue, I should ask her next time. Assuming there's even a second date. You think she was grossed out by my missing ear?" George asked and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"I doubt that. Sorry for ruining your date George." I said and George waved me off.

"Don't worry about it _Potter_." He said my name in that tone Anya just had. The smile on my face faltered as I was reminded.

She really didn't like me.

"Didn't you and Ron want to check out that new Broom store? I hear they've got a new model of the Firebolt up." I suggested lightly and Ron's face lit up.

"Blimey yeah! C'mon Hermione let's go!" Ron said and a hasty goodbye was said before he nearly dragged Hermione out of George's shop. I looked back to George and saw a sympathetic look.

"Ickle Ronniekins is growing up. Getting a girlfriend and everything. Thought that boy would eventually fancy blokes." He joked but I knew he understood my situation.

"It's alright Harry, Ron would never ditch you you know."

"I know. It's just that, they're both so happy and I have nothing to do with it. They're building something that doesn't include me anymore." I said and George sighed, leaning against the counter next to me.

"That's why you're going to eventually find that kind of happiness of your own mate. I mean Ginny—"

"I can't do it. I can't date Ginny." I said, my tone coming out a little more harshly than I had meant for it to.

"Harry the war is over and—"

"It's not the same. I can't look at her more than as Ron's little sister. I can't look at her without thinking that she's Molly Weasley's daughter. I can't look at her without thinking that she's my sister too." I confessed and the look of surprise on George's face made me guilty.

"I'm sorry George…I just—"

"Harry, you need to tell her. You need to tell her to move on and not to wait for you. I would never force you to like my sister like that, but I'm not going to let you lead her on just to break her heart. I'll break your nose even though you are the Savior of the World and all." He said lightheartedly enough, but I knew he meant his words. I did need to break it to Ginny.

"I know…it's just hard. I made her wait through the war, only to tell her that it won't ever work."

"Better late than never Harry."

"Yeah…"

"But let's move onto another topic. This is a little too grave for my tastes. Let's talk about my fantastic date with a gorgeous girl in your grade." George exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face as he looked at me. This had caught me off guard and for a split second I was irritated with him. I was jealous for a single moment, for the fact that he had gone so far as to get a date with that girl when I couldn't even get her to say a civil 'hello' to me.

"Yeah, was she nice?" I asked and George sighed dramatically.

"She was fantastic. She's hilarious too you know. When I told her she was a little too rich for my tastes she took off her heels and walked around barefoot just to show me! I've never met a girl like her." He said dreamily.

_Me neither._

But I was silent as I thought about this girl. There was something so oddly familiar about her.


	5. Date with Weasley

"_Papa, this is my first time visiting you here at Hogwarts, why must we do it at night?" I watched an 11-year-old version of me ask Severus. He looked down at me blankly._

"_I would like to show you something. But you must never tell a soul, will you promise me that Anya?" He asked sternly and I nodded. I admired him more than he could ever imagine._

"_Of course papa. What are you going to show me?"_

"_You will see for yourself." And with that he opened a door to an abandoned classroom in which stood a dusty, tall mirror._

"_Stand in front of it." He instructed and I did as I was told. Immediately, I wasn't by myself. I watched as even my clothes had changed from my normal black robes to a beautiful, bright red dress. Next to me was my father…except it wasn't him. Severus stood next to me with a __**real**__ smile on his face. But he wasn't just standing there next to me…he was also holding my hand. Like a loving father. We were both smiling. I had never seen my father smile, not once, in my entire life._

"_What do you see Anya?" He asked and all those years of defensiveness on his part had rubbed on me. There was an ulterior motive for showing me this mirror. I looked up and saw etched on the top 'The Mirror of Erised'. Only an idiot wouldn't have picked up that 'Erised' was simply 'Desire' spelled backwards. My father wanted to know what it was I really desired. I turned around and glanced at my real father, nervous to tell him the truth. His face was blank as always and I faltered then. I couldn't tell him the truth. He would be disappointed if his daughter only saw some sentimental picture._

_So I lied. Not knowing that my father had already read my mind through Occlumency._

"_I see myself at the Ministry. I'm the Minister of Magic. Everyone respects me and fears me." I lied and I watched an unreadable expression go through my father's eyes._

"_I see. That is an admirable dream." He said and I felt panicked. His voice still held some type of disappointment in it. I didn't want to disappoint him._

"_What do you see in the mirror papa?" I asked and for a moment, his expression softened as he looked at me._

"_I see you, standing next to me." _

_I stood there, too stunned to move._

"_We should get you back home. Your nanny will be worried if she finds you missing. Now remember, don't tell anyone—"_

"_Who my father is. Don't worry, I won't. I tell everyone that Nana adopted me anyway." I said, a little bitterness creeping up into my voice. Severus, didn't respond to it._

"_Here is the portkey, it will activate in one minute. Do you have anything else to say to me tonight?" He asked and again, I was fearful._

_**Yes. I love you. I love you papa. **_

"_No papa, I don't."_

"_Goodnight."_

_I went to bed with a heavy heart. The three words I wanted to hear from my father only came so seldomly. I understood his reasons why though. He had told me that he doesn't need to tell me, he only needs to show that he cares through his actions for actions speak much louder than words. Though I agreed with him to an extent, I don't think he ever understood how much power a few words could hold._

_When I woke up in the morning, there was a box wrapped in gold at the foot of my bed. I leapt towards it and ripped off the wrapping paper, opening the box to let something that felt like silk fall onto my lap._

_It was a red dress._

I woke up with a start, my face cold and wet as I sat up. I wiped my hand across my face and felt the wetness from my tears that had spread across my pillow. I quickly wiped them away as I composed myself.

I never forgot all the things my father had done for me. I had also never forgotten the things he _didn't_ do. But now that he was gone, all that I clung to were the good memories I had of him. And it never hurt any less. I never got used to these memories, these…sweet dreams that could easily be called nightmares as well. I looked at the clock near my bed.

1:00AM.

I wiped my face again before I reached for my messenger bag. I picked it up and rummaged through it, finding what I wanted and quietly getting out of my bed, peeking around to make sure nobody else was up. Slowly I made my way out of the dormitories and into the Common Rooms. Again, I looked around and found the Common Room to be empty. I quietly walked through the portrait hole, ignoring the accusatory look the Black Knight gave me as I exited it. I clutched my robe tightly around me, trying to figure out which way would get me out of here.

Astronomy Tower.

Thankfully the Slytherin dorms were closest to the Astronomy Tower and as I made my way towards it, I clutched the flimsy box in my hand.

I reached the roof of the Tower in no time and breathed in deeply, enjoying the cool night air before I took a cigarette out and lit it. I inhaled the smoke and held it in my lungs for a few seconds before I exhaled, blowing it all out in one thick plume of smoke.

"_What do you see in the mirror papa?"_

"_I see you, standing next to me."_

I closed my eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to resurface.

"You shouldn't be up here. It's past hours. I should give you detention." Came a familiar voice and inwardly I groaned. I said nothing as he sat next to me, looking disapprovingly at the cigarette in my hand. Just to spite him I took another drag, blowing the smoke into his face this time. He didn't cough or splutter though. He took it all in stride, his blank expression never changing.

"The least you could do is explain why you felt the need to smoke at such an hour." He said and I closed my eyes, counting backwards from ten. What was he doing here himself?! What was he doing out of bed? Why did it matter to him? Why didn't he just give me the detention and let me live on with my life? Why did he insist on having this conversation with me?

"Just give me the detention Malfoy."

"And then what? Catch you again here another night? It's a simple question." He said , his voice having that smooth aristocratic drawl I hated so much. I turned to him, barely being able to make out his face in the dark.

"I couldn't sleep."

"Why not?"

"Bad dreams."

"What about?"

"Your mother."

"My—what?" Now that cool façade had dropped, just for a second. He was flabbergasted at my comment. I allowed myself a dry chuckle, mocking him as I leaned back, finishing off the last of my cigarette. But of course, as soon as it went out, I just pulled out another one and lit that up as well.

"That's disgusting."

"No one asked you to stay."

"Your spite is irritating and childish. You should be grateful that I'm not getting you in trouble."

"Wouldn't care if you did."

"Why, are you so bloody insolent with me?" He almost yelled at me, somewhat exasperated at my treatment of him. I looked him in the eye, unwilling to show emotion. I wanted him to leave. I wanted him to just let me be. I wanted to sit here by myself and think my dream over. I wanted to sit here, smoke and try to work through the ache that was beating in my chest. But no, here he was, prevalent as ever, as fucking annoying as ever.

"I want to be left alone. Just, leave me alone." I said, letting up slightly and letting my irritation show through. At this, he smirked.

"You're not the only one who misses him."

My heart stopped at this.

How did he know?

_Severus must have taught him some Occlumency for his own safety._

As the shock wore off, it was replaced with this burning sensation starting at the very pit of my stomach. I hadn't realized that I had crushed the cigarette in my fingers, the embers burned my hands—but I didn't notice. I slowly stood up and dropped the cigarette, slowly lifting up my hand to point at him.

"Don't…talk to me…like you understand. You…wouldn't even know…where to begin…" I spat the words out slowly, not being able to form a regular sentence as I looked at him. At the very edges of my vision it started to color red and my breath started to shorten. My words that time were heavily accented by my Russian roots and I was too angry to speak carefully. Draco stood up as well, his eyes narrowing as he clenched his fists. I didn't care though. My head was spinning as I looked at this worthless maggot of a human being.

"You..goddamn _svoloch! Sosi ebanataya sooka!_" I had completely forgotten my English now, cursing at him in Russian as I forced myself to not lay a hand on my wand. His expression did not change, the anger was still etched out on his face.

"You think he was just a father to you? You think he only mattered to you—"

"It's your fault he's dead! You and your golddigging mother!" I screamed now and reacted the moment his hand moved.

"_Inunculus!_"

"_Protego!_" I countered, and his hard hitting spell was bounced off my shield. I wasn't good in charms and several other subjects, but if there was one thing that war had taught me, it was how to duel.

"Enough." He said the moment his spell had bounced off of my counterspell. He held his wand our to his side, letting it dangle between his as a signal of withdrawal. He was not going to fight me now. I lowered my wand and pocketed it, taking another cigarette out. He watched me as I took the lighter from my pocket, lighting it and breathing in once to get the smoke, and breathing in a second time to inhale it. I watched him from the distance we had created between us, his mask of coldness had been placed on again and he studied me in turn.

"Is that, is that why you hate me? Is that why you hate my family? Because you think we're responsible for Severus' death?" He asked quietly and I let another stream of smoke blow towards him before I answered.

"No. I hate you and your family for much…much…more." And before he could ask me to elaborate, I put out the cigarette, flicking it off of the tower, and quickly walked past him, rushing back towards the dormitories.

I wasn't ready to speak about this. Not to him. Not to anyone.

For the next several days, I grew more and more frustrated. Even during Potions class I couldn't bring myself to concentrate on Professor Wilson's words. Whatever she said went in one ear and right out the other. Anya's words had haunted me every second of every minute that went through every god damned day.

It's not like I hadn't thought about it before.

She wasn't the only one who blamed my family for Severus' death. My mother blamed herself. I blamed myself. But who was she to say it to my face? Who the hell did she think she was? That pathetic excuse of an orphan…

"Drakey—"

"I swear upon your pug-face that if you call me Drakey one more time I will rip your tongue right out." I burst out in the middle of class. I had meant to whisper it, but apparently I hadn't as the room went silent. Professor Wilson was arching an eyebrow at me while Pansy was looking at me horrified. She stood up and ran out of the classroom and I could hear her sobbing all the way down the hallway.

"Draco Malfoy, that was uncalled for. You disrupted my class as well. 5 points from Slytherin and detention. See me after class so that we may discuss your punishment." She said and I fell silent, fuming inside my head as I mentally berated myself.

_Idiot. Idiot. Why would you say that so loudly? Why would you say that to Parkinson? She has been an essential part to getting your name back as the Slytherin Prince._

_**I don't care. I don't care anymore.**_

_But you obviously do. _

Feeling a pair of eyes on me I looked down to see Anya staring at me, her face expressionless and her eyes filled with coldness. I didn't even see satisfaction in her gaze. I had expected her to at least somewhat gloat at my misfortune. She turned back around to face the professor and suddenly I felt abandoned. Looking around me I saw that Blaise was the only one in my row, and he seemed completely out of it. His eyes were unfocused and glazed over. His body was slumped over the desk and his hair looked like it was falling out. Disgusting. I knew nothing about what had happened to him and I was unwilling to find out. I didn't want to know about his life, it wasn't my business.

But something did strike me odd about Anya. When I had seen her face, there were dark circles under her eyes, she seemed paler than usual and just plain exhausted. She probably was getting up every night to smoke up at the roof of the Astronomy Tower. I had limited my late night walks this week, choosing instead to fume on my bed than go there to run into her again.

Well, I was glad that she wasn't doing too well either.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to wake myself up more. I needed to focus. This was the year for NEWTs and of all subjects, I couldn't do poorly in Potions. It was the one thing I was truly good at. It was the subject that I could feel myself being sucked into. The one subject that even Hermione Granger could not best me in.

The end of the period rolled around and I dragged myself up to the Professor's desk, looking down at the random pencil marks that had been scratched into the wooden surface. She put a hand down where I was staring and I looked up into the face of an unamused woman.

"I won't ask why you made that outburst today, it doesn't matter. What I want you to do is take notes of my potions inventory and stock. A week ago, several things went missing, but I wasn't too sure because I hadn't written down what I had, what I used and when. You will be marking down every single item in the inventory tonight at 8PM. Are we clear?"

"Yes Professor."

"_Papa, the reason you hide me, you say it's for my own protection right?" I asked my father who sat next to me in front of a warm, crackling fire. He glanced down at me, raising an eyebrow._

"_I speak the truth when I say it is for your own protection." He said, and years ago, I would have accepted that answer. But at the age of sixteen, things had rapidly changed. I became sharper, I saw things that weren't meant to be seen, I heard things that weren't said. _

"_Is it? Sometimes I feel that it is for your own as well. It takes away a large chunk of responsibility of being a parent." I said quietly and I watched as my father's head snap up. His mouth twitched, but that was all. I hadn't even gotten a frown from him._

"_I do my best. I only want what is best for you." He said, and his words were touching, but his voice was cold. Over the years, I had built up spite. I had built up longing…yearning. I wanted to feel the love my father said he had for me._

"_Do you papa? You seem more preoccupied with that Potter boy." I said offhandedly and there it was. The reaction. His face paled and his lips were pressed tightly into a thin line. He looked at the fire, not responding to me and I understood that this conversation was over._

"_Papa?"_

"_Yes?"_

"_I love you."_

_He was silent again, his chin leaning against the back of his hand as he stared into the fire, as if waiting for something to come out. I watched him, studying the man who was so absent and yet so prevalent in my life. After a couple of minutes, he finally spoke._

"_You'd do best to hide your emotions. Love, it is a weakness. Your enemies will use it against you, even the people you call friends will eventually use it against you." He said calmly and I swore I could hear the sound of my heart breaking. I only wanted to hear one thing. I only wanted to hear him say one thing._

"_Ponyemaiyete?" (Understand?)_

"_Da." (Yes.)_

Blinking my eyes open, I was starting to get used to these haunting dreams of my father. Robotically, I wiped my face and looked at the clock.

10:00PM

At least I had gone to bed early and woke up before it got too late this time. I leaned over my bed, reaching underneath it to take out a fresh pack. I quietly lit my wand and flashed the space under my bed, checking out what I had left. My stock was dwindling, it was time to get more soon. I was somewhat impressed by the amount I had smoked in such a short time. This past couple months had been awful to me.

Draco had at least been considerate enough to avoid going to the Astronomy Tower at night, leaving me to my thoughts. As I exited the Slytherin Common Rooms and walked down the hallway, I swore I heard something.

"_Psssst._"

I looked around and saw nobody. Having my wand ready in my hand, I continued walking down the hallway.

"_Psssssst._" It was getting closer.

"_Psss—_" I had whipped out my wand and found myself pressing it against someone's throat.

"Anya, it's me." He whispered and I took a step back, not willing to lower my wand as I recognized the voice. How did he get in here?

"George…?" I asked tentatively. I heard a quiet chuckle.

"_Lumos._" He whispered and a faint light emitted from his wand. I looked up and saw that it was indeed George. But I felt paranoia tugging at my insides.

"How did you get in here?" I asked, still not lowering my wand, but as he smiled at me, I was getting less and less paranoid.

"I was a student here once upon a time as well you know. There are a few secret passageways. Don't worry, it's really me. I met you and got you a sundae when we first met." He said and finally I lowered my wand and went to him, throwing my arms around him and hugging him. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me in return, giving me a light kiss on the cheek.

"What are you doing here George? If someone catches you—"

"Actually, I think Filch might be coming soon. Come with me." He said and took my hand, pulling me towards another direction, leading me down a dark hallway and to a one-eyed witch statue.

"_Dissendium_." He whispered, tapping it with his wand. To my great surprise, the witch moved, and he pulled me in, closing the passage behind us.

"George, where are we going?"

"This passage leads to the cellar of Honeydukes. From there we can slip into my shop, my apartment is on the second floor on top of it. Come on." He said excitedly. I grinned as well, all thoughts of my dream disappearing quickly as I embarked on this adventure. He slowly lifted up the exit top, peaking around and climbing out. He offered me his hand and I took it, being pulled up onto the floor by him.

"George, why were you at Hogwarts?" I asked as we made our way out of the pitch black Honeydukes and down the street towards his shop. Hogsmeade was still bustling with activity, people were going in and out of bars and living up the night life. Obviously, they didn't have schoolwork to think about. I tugged George's hand and started leading him towards the Three Broomsticks. Lord knew I could do with a drink.

"Come on, we can talk over a drink." I urged and George shrugged, following me into the pub, taking up the corner booth as Madame Rosmerta approached us.

"Hello dolls, what can I get you to drink?"

"Firewhiskey." I said curtly and handed her my wand for her to check my identification and age. She tapped it with hers and my wand glowed a light blue. She smiled and handed it back to me.

"You're clear. And what about you honey?" She asked George and he waved his hand.

"I'll be good with a glass of water." He said and for a moment I felt somewhat guilty bringing him in here when he didn't want to drink whatsoever. But I shrugged it off, looking back to him and smiling. His hair was tousled from a day's long work.

"So you didn't answer me, what were you doing at Hogwarts?"

"Well isn't it obvious? I went there to see you. You saved me some trouble on the part where I had to sneak into the dorms though. I forgot I didn't even know what house you're in." He said, a big grin on his face. I shook my head.

"Then how were you going to find me at all?"

"Oh, I have my ways." He winked at me and I rolled my eyes, gratefully accepting the firewhiskey that was placed in front of me. I took a long draught of it, the burning sensation pleasing to my throat.

"But why did you come to see me? You could have just sent an owl."

"Oh you know, I enjoy being a little grand in my methods of wooing a girl. Besides, after that last date, I wasn't sure you wanted to see me again. You didn't seem to happy when Harry and the others showed up." He said and to avoid responding to him immediately, I took another long drink of my firewhiskey. I thoroughly enjoyed the way it burned as it went down my throat.

"You shouldn't have worried, I find you quite charming. Missing ear and all." I said with a smile and George grinned widely, his hand automatically going to the spot where an ear should have been. The scar that was in the spot where his ear should have been was a shade of dark purple. I narrowed my eyes to look at it in more detail, its familiarity catching me off guard.

"Someone cursed it off using the Dark Arts." I said and George turned to me, a somewhat impressed look on his face.

"How did you know? But yes, it was during one of the battles in the war. Ole' Snivellus chopped it right off." He said and the way he used that mockery of a nickname for my father made me tense up inside. But he didn't say it with any malice, so I calmly let it pass in my head.

"I'm sorry for the loss of your ear."

"I lost much more than just an ear." He said and for the first time, the prankster twinkle in his eye disappeared and I saw a veil of coldness cover them. He looked at me and I almost didn't recognize the boy sitting in front of me. He was no longer a boy when he looked at me, instead, he looked like a tired, aged man. There was unspeakable sadness in his stare, something that called out to and trapped me. There was no light in his eyes now, it was as if there were a shadow that covered him, enshrouded him in one dominating grip.

"George..I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Shall we go have a late night snack at my place?" He interrupted, smiling at me. But his smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Of course." I went to toss a few knuts for my drink but he covered my hand and shelled some out himself.

"Come on." He said, taking my hand as he led me out. I was still getting used to this whole 'holding hands' thing. There were very few people who had ever held my hand before. It wasn't an act I indulged in, but the way George tended to grab my hand, I felt that it was too rude to say no or pull away. As we walked down the street, I realized that my pack of cigarettes was still in my pocket.

The urge struck me again.

I wanted to smoke.

As we reached his store I tentatively walked inside, following him up the stairs and watching him unlock the door to the second floor. When he opened it I stepped in and looked around.

Whatever I had been expecting, it wasn't this.

It was like a miniature laboratory. Unfinished products were bubbling in cauldrons, being contained in glass boxes and there were so many items organized in large vials. An entire wall of the place was a shelf upon a shelf. Every row being filled down to the very inch.

"I know, an impressive bachelor pad. And when I said a snack, I meant I ordered out." He said and I smiled to see him walking over to the counter and lifting up two bags of food.

I hardly knew her, but I knew I was beginning to like her a good amount.

She was having trouble picking up the shrimp with her chopsticks and in frustration she opted to stab it, victoriously picking the skewered piece of food and popping it into her mouth. It was cute.

Yet what haunted me was the way she looked at me in the Three Broomsticks. As the memory of my lost twin had crossed me, her face had completely changed. In her face I saw empathy, sadness and understanding all wrapped up in one look. It's like she understood without even knowing the situation. Somehow, she had felt what I did without any words being exchanged.

As it came to the ending of our meal, I felt the burden on my chest getting heavier. I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell her everything that I had been unable to tell my own family.

"His name was Fred."

She snapped her head up, studying me carefully from across the dinner table. But I wasn't looking at her. I was staring at the empty plate in front of me.

"He was my twin brother. In the final battle with You-Know—Vol…Voldemort," I had forced myself to stutter out his name, but I couldn't help but pause. I was not a coward. I would not be afraid of the piece of shit who caused this hole inside of me. I continued. "I was protecting the passageways of Hogwarts with him and my other brother Percy. Percy had made the first joke in his entire life and I remember Fred's face lighting up with delight. Before Fred could even finish exclaiming his delight though, there was an explosion."

_The screams. The cries. They echoed in my head like an annoying background noise. There was a ringing in my ears and a silence all around me. I could feel my heart skip a beat as I looked at the rubble which surrounded me. Percy was dazed, cuts all across his face, and then I looked to Fred._

"He had been crushed by the rubble instantly. His eyes were open and coated in dust. I waited a few seconds, expecting him to blink them out of his eyes, but of course, he never did. I heard somebody screaming his name. I heard that person screaming his name over and over again and I didn't realize until later that it was me who was screaming."

_Lifeless. Breathless. Dead._

"I wouldn't believe it. Percy tried to pull me away but I wouldn't let go of him. I kept shaking him as I moved off all of the rubble from his body. I couldn't let go."

_Waiting for him to blink. Waiting for him to smile and stand up. Waiting for him to tell me he was just pulling my leg and how hilarious that joke was._

"Percy dragged me away finally, but I was still holding his body in my arms."

_Mangled. Bleeding. I could see his ribs poking right out of his skin. I could see his hip, having been shattered, being attached to his left leg by a dangling thread of skin. His eyes were now completely covered in dust, glazed over in death._

"I burned the body before my family could come to see what had happened. I didn't want them to see George like that. And with a flick of my wand, my brother had become nothing but a pile of ashes. Percy was the only one who understood why I did that. My family was so heartbroken that I would do that to the body of my brother…but they didn't understand. They hadn't seen him, the way he looked. If I hadn't done that, my mother would have gone insane with grief."

"George…I'm so sorry…I had no idea…" Her voice came, and I had never heard it so soft like I did now. She had stood up from her end of the table and had come to me, sitting next to me and taking my hand in hers. I knew I was openly weeping now, but I didn't care. I still couldn't look at her, I was still staring at my plate.

"I need to tell you this. I can't explain why…I really can't. But from the moment I saw you, I knew you would understand. I knew, you would understand everything I had hidden from my family and why."

"George…"

"That night, though we had won the war…it felt like we had lost. I felt like I had lost everything ever worth fighting for. Fred was my other half, my partner in crime…the one I could count on for anything and everything at any time. He was more than my brother, he was the other part of me. I lost a piece of my soul that night. My mother, my father, they had lost their own child. I could never really tell them how much his death affected me, their hearts had already been broken. But mine, I felt like I had completely lost it. My family, they thought I was grieving just like them…but it was nothing like that. I was lost. My own name, it didn't sound right. I didn't know who George was. I didn't know what family was anymore. Every day was like a dream within a dream, a mere echo of what life was supposed to be. I had to think about how to walk correctly, had to remind myself that it was the left, then the right."

_I sometimes forgot how to breathe. I felt the silence, the lack of his laughter, choking me. It wrapped around my throat and tried to drag me away to join him. At night I could hear my own screams replaying over and over again in my head. The image of his contorted body was branded in my mind, etched out with a needle right onto my very eyeballs._

"I wanted to run away. I wanted to leave this business and disappear from the face of the earth. But I couldn't do it. This business, it was still a part of Fred. He would have died for nothing then. He died to protect our freedom…and the least I could do was continue the business in his memory. But every day, it's hard. Every day I'm reminded that I wasn't the only founder of this store, but that instead, I used to have a partner. Nobody to take turns testing the products out on with, nobody to concoct devious plots with. It s just me. And though I still have my family…I'm still alone."

I finally looked up at her, and knew exactly what was coming. She leaned towards me, her eyes never leaving mine, and she kissed me. Slowly, I pulled her up into a standing position and backed her up against the wall, my hands gripping her waist as I couldn't bring myself to break off the kiss.

My tongue flitted across her lips, and she granted me permission, parting her lips slightly to let me in.

She tasted sweet, she tasted like honey.

It felt like she was filling something that had been missing. During that one kiss I didn't feel lonely anymore. There was warmth that was spreading throughout my body and my lips were burning just from touching hers. I pulled back to breathe and looked at her. Her chest rising up and down at a rapid pace and her eyes took their time to look up into mine.

I had needed that kiss.

"Stay the night." I said and her eyes widened.

"That's going a bit too fast—"

"I didn't mean it that way. I'm just asking you to spend the night. Only to sleep, nothing else." And I was impressed at the fact that there was no trace of distrust in her expression. She smiled at me and nodded.

"Okay."

I had needed that kiss. I had needed her.

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"_Papa, all of my classmates made paper flowers today for Mother's Day." I said over the dinner table. My father had come to visit me for the first time in a week. He looked up at me, studying me closely as I said this. It wasn't until years later I realized just how manipulative I had become at the very age of six. I was trying to gouge a reaction from my father on the topic of my mother. He never spoke of her. _

"_I know mama's passed away. So I made it for you instead. Would you like it?" There was a kind of relief that showed in his eyes when I followed up with this._

"_Of course. I would like that." He said and I didn't smile, slowly getting off of my chair to run and get the flower I had made so carefully. I retrieved it from under my bed and held it as if it were made of dust, going up to my father and holding it up to him like an offering. He gently took it from me and looked at his, the very corners of his lips twitching momentarily._

"_It is beautiful. You've spent a lot of time and care on this." He said and his compliment filled my heart with this warm elation. I smiled now, proudly putting my hands on my hips as I watched him study my flower._

_I had carefully picked gold paper for the stem and red paper for the petals, layering them for over an hour to get several dozens of petals onto one little stem._

_My teacher had told me it was the best one she had seen be made in her class during her entire teaching career._

"_I did." I confirmed and my father gave me one of his rare…rare…smiles._

"_Thank you Anastasia."_

_I loved it when he smiled at me._

I winced at the bright morning light, blinking a couple of times before I registered that I wasn't in my four-poster bed. I slowly pushed myself up into a sitting position, rubbing my eyes as I looked to my left.

"Morning Miss Sunshine." He said happily, watching me with his twinkling eyes. He already looked like he had been awake for a while now. But he was still sitting in our makeshift bed next to me.

"You're a morning person?" I asked, unable to stifle a yawn that escaped me. He grinned.

"Nope. But you looked too cute." He said, leaning over and giving me a peck on the cheek. I chuckled, bringing up my knees to my chest as I hugged the blanket to my chest. I stared at the lump under the blankets which was my feet.

"—_It s just me. And though I still have my family…I'm still alone."_

His words played over and over in my head. His kiss played over and over in my head.

I felt his arms wrap around me and I smiled, leaning back against his warm chest.

"I lost someone in the war as well." I said slowly, feeling his arms around me tense. I stubbornly stared at the lump of my feet.

"I lost my father. He was the only family I had left. When he died, I had lost everything. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, breathing felt like a chore, living was just tedious…I too, felt that a part of me had completely disappeared. He was my rock, my hope, my love and my family." I said softly and felt his hands going down my arms, slipping around my waist to pull me closer. He leaned his chin on my shoulder and kissed it, his soft lips sending a tingle up my spine.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. I smiled.

"We have both lost a lot in the war. At least we both we're not alone."

_But we are. We will always be alone. We will live through this miserable life to reach a miserable and lonely death. But if I stay here, in your arms, maybe I could momentarily forget the pain that tries to rip out of my chest._

"What was your father's name?" He asked and I froze now, tensing up as I bit my lip.

_You can trust him._

"Oh no! Classes! I have Transfiguration this morning! I'll be late! I don't even have proper clothes. I got food on my pajamas last night and—" I wasn't really panicked, but you know, when your father was a spy, you became a fantastic actress.

_I'm not ready to trust him._

George started to laugh, getting up with me and putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Calm down. I'll lend you one of my t-shirts. I think Ginny, my sister, left one of her skirts here when she was visiting for a week—you know, to get away from Mum and Dad for a bit. She's small like you." He said, walking off into the bedroom and reappearing quickly with two articles of clothing in his hands. His t-shirt was oversized, but it wasn't anything a simple spell couldn't fix. He handed me the clothes and I shuffled off into the bathroom to change. When I came back out George grinned at the oversized t-shirt.

"Didn't charm it to shrink some?" He asked and I lowered my eyes.

"I'm…not too good with charms." I confessed and George only smiled wider, flicking his wrist and transforming the t-shirt to fit me.

"There, you look fantastic. Come on, let's get you to the passageway."

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	6. Potter

"That's it. I'm dropping the class." Hermione exclaimed in frustration, throwing down several pieces of parchment onto the breakfast table. I glanced over and saw that it was the composition piece that she had been losing sleep over for the past few days. I raised my eyebrows in surprise at her. Hermione _never_ dropped a class unless she absolutely had to.

"That hard?" I asked and she shot a glare at me that would wither another man. I raised my hands in apology.

"No. Maybe. It's just impossible. I can't wrap my mind around how to put these notes together to make something feasible. I'm going to have to tell Anya I'm dropping—oh, she just came in for breakfast, great." She said and I looked up to see Anya, looking a little less fresh than normal. I squinted, trying to make out the details of her and saw that her skirt for one seemed a little loose and that t-shirt looked familiar.

"Hey, that looks like a skirt I have." Ginny said from next to me, looking up from her cereal to stare at the girl. I watched as she narrowed her eyes.

"Wait…that is my skirt. How does she…come on Hermione." She was about to tug on Hermione but Hermione had stood up, waving frantically to get Anya's attention.

"Anya! Anya! Over here!" She called out and I watched Anya turn around in confusion, scanning the Great Hall until she saw Hermione. I suddenly felt embarrassed about being next to Hermione. Why didn't Hermione just walk over to Anya..? Was there such a need to draw so much attention to ourselves….

"Oi Herms, you look like a mad woman. Just walk over to her." Ron grumbled and Hermione shot him one of her looks as well.

"Too late. She's coming over anyway." I said, unconsciously straightening up as she walked over. But she didn't look at me or anyone else but Hermione. Her eyes purposefully never left Hermione's as she arched an eyebrow.

"Yes Granger?" She asked and I immediately noted the usage of Hermione's last name. Hermione didn't seem fazed though, smiling brightly as she held out the parchment.

"I'm going to be dropping the class today. I'm really sorry Anya. I can tell the professor that it was on short notice and that she should give you an extension—"

"Don't worry about it—"

"Why are you wearing my skirt?" Ginny popped in, looking at Anya up and down. I watched as an amused smirk only slightly tilted Anya's lips, having more of a menacing look than that of amusement.

"Your brother lent it to me." She said simply and I watched Ginny's suspicion fade away to be replaced with confusion.

"W-what? Why would he do that? Which one?"

"George did because I spent the night."

At this, I coughed up my scrambled eggs, earning a brief glance from Anya before she turned back to Hermione, taking the parchment from her hands. I saw the look of shock on Ginny and Ron's faces. Ginny shook out of it sooner than Ron and she called out after Anya.

"Hey wait! Are you George's girlfriend then?" Anya stopped and turned around, the smirk still wringing her lips.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" And with that she walked off. As for me, I was still stunned into silence. Had she slept with George? Were her and George dating seriously then? Why did she move so quickly with George—

"Mate, you alright? You look like you've swallowed a boogey flavored jelly bean." Ron said, shaking my shoulder. I shook out of it and blinked a few times, looking at him in a daze.

"You think she slept with George?" I asked and Ron grinned mischievously, leaning back on his chair with his hands behind his head.

"Who knows? George always joked about being a fantastic womanizer, but I never thought the old dog really had it in him. I'm surprised he got someone so pretty—"

"Ron stop it. It's not an admirable trait you know." Hermione interrupted and he grinned sheepishly, blushing as he went back to his breakfast.

"But he is right, you look very disturbed Harry. Are you alright?" Hermione asked, looking at me with concern. Ginny leaned over to me, tilting her head and smiling at me.

"Something wrong Harry?" Ginny asked, a lovely smile bracing her face. I kind of jumped back at the suddenness of her appearance and shook my head.

"Uh…no..I uh…I think I forgot something in my room. I'll see you guys in Transfiguration." I said in a rush, grabbing my backpack and ignoring whatever questions they had to ask me. I quickly walked out of the Great Hall, looking down the hallway to see Anya walking off. I caught up to her, getting to her side.

"Hey." She snapped around, her eyes wide in surprise. But she quickly composed herself, looking at me with a level glare.

"What?" She asked and I could just hear the dislike oozing from her voice. Again, I was reminded of Snape.

"I uh…so you're in a relationship with George?" I asked and I knew the information was absolutely none of my business. But I had to know.

_I don't need to know. It's none of my damn business._

"What's it to you?"

_Nothing._

"Sorry, it was none of my business. I was just curious."

She rolled her eyes slightly at me before turning around , continuing to walk without responding to me. I walked alongside her, but she still wouldn't look at me.

"Anya, wait." I grasped her wrist and she immediately whirled on me, a look of incredible disgust in her eyes. She twisted her wrist out of my grasp in a flash of movement.

"_Just what is it Potter?!_" She hissed and for a moment my vision faded.

"_Just what is it Potter?! You incessant thing! Perhaps the fame and glory has gone to your head, but you are only a useless student in my eyes, now why don't you stop interrupting my class. You have enough attention as it is."_

"_But Professor Snape I—"_

"_Potter!"_

"You…you're Snape's daughter." I said suddenly and the look of fear on her face confirmed it. She glared at me then, taking a step closer to me and grabbing my hand, pulling me down the hallway down into one of the more abandoned hallways. She turned to me then, narrowing her eyes.

"What are you babbling about _Potter_?" Again she hissed, and again, it was _exactly_ the way Snape had said my name.

"You're the girl who was at Severus Snape's funeral under the veil. It was to you that Snape left the other half of the house to. There were no other transfer students in 7th year but you. Anya is short for Anasta—"

"Shut _up!_" She shushed, putting a hand over my mouth. She slowly backed up from me and eyed me, lifting her hand off my mouth.

"How did you know?" She asked slowly and I nervously ran a hand through my hair, also smiling out of nervousness.

"I spent six years around him. I recognize the way he said my name. You say it just like him…you hate me just like he did." I added the last part softly and her eyes hardened, the steely gray washing over me like a cold chill.

"Don't tell anyone…not Granger, not your Weasley friend and girlfriend—"

"She's not my girlfriend." I found myself interrupting and she rolled her eyes at this.

"Might as well be. Doesn't matter, just don't tell anyone."

_But why the secrecy? Why does it matter?_

"Why?"

"None of your damn business."

"Does George know who you are?" And at this question she paused, stepping back towards me to leer at me, her head tilting upwards because I was so much taller than her.

"He knows who I am as the person I am now. Not what family tree I dropped from." She said sternly and in her closeness, I could smell her. The light perfume she wore smelled sweetly and thankfully _not_ of flowers. I looked down at her, my brain somewhat fizzing out of commission as she looked up at me.

"Why do _you_ hate me so much? I know why Snape did, but why you as well?" I asked and she grinned, a look of coy slyness masking her face. I found myself unintentionally leaning down closer to her.

"Because _Potter_, you're so easy to dislike." Then she backed up suddenly, snapping me out of my reverie. Before I could even register what had happened, she had walked away from me, leaving me to the thoughts that went swimming about my head.

_So easy to dislike?_

_**Forget that, you were about to kiss her. And you know George Weasley fancies her.**_

_I didn't mean too. And I don't think that's even possible. She'd never allow that, she hates me._

_**Well it obviously didn't stop you.**_

_But I didn't kiss her, that's the important part._

_**You're attracted to her though.**_

Yes, yes I was.

I went to go after her but before I could even move a foot she had come back into the hallway and roughly put her hand on my chest, pushing me back against the wall. Her eyes were narrowed as she pointed her finger at my chest. I wasn't afraid though, more intrigued. But the look in her eyes told me she wasn't joking around.

Still, she looked very cute when she was mad.

"Look Potter, just promise you won't breathe a word of this to anyone you know." She nearly growled at me and I blinked, somewhat bewildered at the urgency in her voice.

"Tell me why." I ventured, now knowing that I had some card to play with. She retracted her finger for a second, but again she poked my chest with it.

"Fine. During lunch, meet me outside of Potions, we'll take a walk. But do I have your word you'll keep your mouth shut?" She asked and I nodded. She took a step back and balled up her fist, and when she looked at me, I would have bet all the galleons in my bank that she was seriously considering slugging me in the face. I was actually somewhat bracing for it when I heard,

"Snogging isn't appropriate in the hallways. Move along to class Potter, Anya." Came Malfoy's low drawl and I looked up, seeing a somewhat amused smirk on his face. Anya merely walked away from him, shoving against Draco's shoulder when she passed him. I slowly walked to Draco, turning to watch Anya get lost in the blend of students in the hallway.

"That's her, I saw you with her at the fu—"

"Not a word Potter. Not a word." He said and then grinned at me, giving me a somewhat apologetic look as he did so.

"I don't understand it either." He said and for a moment I felt incredibly awkward. This was not just anybody, this was Draco Malfoy. And we were actually sharing a "moment", standing parallel where a small bond was being formed. In all my years at Hogwarts, I had never thought Draco and I would ever be on the same wavelength. But war changes people, he tried to save us, tried to hide us from his father and when the deciding moment came, he had saved my life. Now, we were living the repercussions of our changed lives. Except from the way I saw it, he was quickly reverting back to his old life, his power, money and influence were all in tact once more and he was on top of the Slytherin chain again. And I was again the boy wonder. The one who lived.

"You'll be late to Transfiguration if you stand there any longer Potter. See you there." He said and walked off without even a simple goodbye. I snorted at the oddity that had come between us and shouldered my backpack more securely. I walked to class, now intrigued.

The girl looked nothing like him. But she still looked so familiar.

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"One of the greatest mysteries of Transfiguration is how something small can be changed into something much longer. The fundamental rules of science cannot be changed. Energy cannot be created or destroyed, only changed. It is not that you are creating more matter, it is that the magic you put into your transfiguration is converted into mass. The more you understand the theory and the more skilled you are, the more mass you can focus your magic into. Each one of you sees a small mouse in a cage on your desk, you will be transfiguring it into a full grown cat."

"Professor?"

"Yes Ms. Granger?"

"What qualities are you looking for in the cat?"

"Good question. I will be taking note of the quality of its coat, its size, its health and how convincing it is. Aesthetic qualities are irrelevant as we are just beginning. But if you believe you've mastered the basics, feel free to take reign of other qualities. Any other questions?"

"No, thank you Professor." She replied and I wondered if a good sock in the mouth would shut that know-it-all the fuck up. I looked at the mouse scuttling around in the cage in front of me. It smelled.

I prodded it with my wand, being rewarded with a shrill cry of pain.

"Ms. Ale—"

"Sorry Professor." I interrupted, but she was not done. She walked over and put her hand down on my desk, giving me a careful leer.

"You are not to play with your mouse, and you are most definitely not to hurt it. You—Mr. Longbottom! You're supposed to put the body freeze on your mouse before you let it out!" She was distracted by the mouse which was now running rampant in the class. With a flick of her wand the mouse was up in the air and the nervous looking Neville had his eyes downcast, fiddling with his wand as his face turned red.

"S-sorry Professor McGonagall…I forgot."

I looked back to my mouse. It was a real pathetic looking thing, shivering in the corner of its cage, its fur bleach white and its eyes red. I looked around and saw that of all the students in this class I had to get stuck with the albino mouse. I sighed and whispered a small body binding charm, watching it freeze (except for the occasional twitch) and pulling it out by the tail. The tail felt like a dried up worm.

Again, I looked around the room, looking at the half-assed cats the students managed to make until my eyes fell upon Hermione Granger's. Of course hers was a large, fluffy, healthy looking cat. I looked at my mouse again.

I was good at Transfiguration. Or at least, I was pretty sure I was.

"_Incantatem engorgio felicus."_ I swirled my wand in the air once before bringing it down with a flick over the mouse.

I prayed, I hoped, I tried to put a lot of myself into that spell. I watched as the mouse transformed into a cat and I watched it grow into a size of an adult cat.

Then I watched it get bigger.

It grew until it barely fit on my desk. It was the size of a small mountain lion and from shock I had stumbled back, knocking over someone else's desk.

"Hey! Watch it—whoa." I heard, and I saw Professor McGonagall coming towards me from the corner of my eye, but I couldn't really pay attention. My breath was stuck in my throat as I looked at the large, white, cat before me.

_My head was spinning, the room was spinning, the floor was giving away beneath me. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I fell onto my hands and knees, trying to gasp for air. The air was running away from me, I couldn't breathe in deep enough and my vision was starting to blur in one colorful haze of mush. My body tingled, like an electric shock traveling through my very veins. My hands started to get bigger, my body got bigger and I watched my skin turn into a snow white fur. My nails grew into claws and the cold air of Russia seemed less harsh within seconds._

_The transformation was complete._

"Very interesting. Excellent job Ms. Granger. Five points to Gryffindor." I panicked when I heard her voice and I scrambled back up to my desk.

"Now what is this? Miss Alex—"

"I'm sorry Professor, I didn't mean to—"

"No no, I was going to congratulate if you would _stop_ interrupting me. How interesting for you to have done this…let's see here."

She walked around the frozen cat, inspecting it, running a hand along its back and down its tail. She tapped it with her wand and it turned back into the useless little mouse it was before. She placed it back into the cage and rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

"Have you done Transfiguration like this at your old school?" She asked.

"Yes Professor." I lied.

"I see. Well then, it's no real feat. All the same, 5 points to Slytherin." She walked away to look over the shoulders of other students, guiding them to perform the spell properly. I stared at the little white thing in the cage as I tried to get my heart to beat steadily, but the headache was coming, the blinding darkness was pulsing inside my head.

"_This way Ivan."_

"_Mother it's cold!"_

"_Follow the tiger."_

"_It will kill me! It will eat me!"_

"_No, trust me, follow the tiger."_

_I saw my breath coming out in a steam, the very mist seemingly turning to ice as it came out. The boy tentatively came towards me, looking back and forth from me to his mother._

"_Mother I—"_

"_Avada Kedavra!" _

_There was a flash of green light that coincided with a loud, thundering roar. The boy was screaming when I grabbed him with my teeth, trying not to pierce his skin, but I tasted his blood on my tongue, my teeth having inevitably making him bleed._

"_Mother!!!!! It hurts!!! Where are you?!! Mother!!!" His screams broke my heart as I carried him, running as fast as my paws could carry me. I knew the Death Eaters were coming. I knew his mother was now dead. I had to run. I had to protect him. I had to bring him into the coldest parts of Russia where no witch or wizard had ever ventured before. It was a place nobody could follow into or live. But me. I could do it._

"_Moootherr!!!! Please!!!!"_

"Anya are you okay?" I heard somebody's voice, but I couldn't put a name to it. They sounded as if they were speaking to me underwater. I leaned back on my desk, my hands on my head as my head started to pound in an excruciating matter. Now there was no ignoring this headache, no willing it to go away. Now the spots of black started to sprout in my vision, blotting out everything before me as I stumbled backwards.

"Anya? Anya?" I kept hearing my name.

"Anya?! Are you alright?"

I fell backwards now, my body hitting the cold floor as I lost my breath.

"_Anastasia_?!" I heard somewhere as my head hit the ground.

"_It hurts! It hurts!"_

"_I'm sorry. I had to get you out of there. Stay still."_

"_I'm cold!"_

"_Please, just calm down."_

"_My mother! Where is she?!"_

"_Shh.."_

"_No!!!"_

_I knocked him out with a spell, healing his wounds as I redressed him. I closed my eyes and let the familiar course of magic run through me. I let out a low growl and curled up around the sleeping boy to keep him warm, to shelter him from the cold, merciless tundra._

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"_Why Father, why can't you stay here…with me? Nobody will find us—"_

"_I must do what I do, to keep us all safe."_

"_We can be safe, we can hide—"_

"_We cannot hide. I am not just doing this for you. I am doing it for all of us. For the good of the world."_

"_You've never cared for the world father. You are lying to me…why, why do you do this?"_

"_Because…I have a debt to repay."_

I blinked my eyes open, squinting against the bright light and trying to get a focus as to where I was. I slowly sat up and looked around me. I was surrounded in white and the entire place smelled..sterile.

I was in a hospital of some sorts. Or some type of infirmary.

I swung my legs over the bed, checking myself for my belongings. My wand was on the night stand, my books were nowhere to be found. I then proceeded to rack my brain for information.

_I woke up in an unknown place. The battle last night had ended in loss. We were taken as captives and I made my routine check._

_Wand? Still hidden in my boot. Check._

_Clothes? Everything seemed to be in place, I had not been touched. Check._

_Injuries? I saw that on my arms were long slashes from the hexes that had been thrown around, but besides that I was only slightly bruised up._

_Now, where was I? I looked at my surroundings for clues. It was standard routine._

I felt my head and in one specific spot it was very sore to the touch. I winced as my fingers traced over a decently sized lump on my skull. Jesus. Now, where was I? The last place I had been in was the Transfiguration classroom. McGonagall had assigned us something. We each had a mouse in front of us. I had received a white one…

_Oh right, changing it into a cat. _

The images of the white cat flashed through my head and already I could feel my headache coming back. I willed away the images as I rubbed my temples, tucking my wand back into my pocket as I stood up.

"Hold your horses dearie! That was quite a fall your head took! I need to check you for concussions."

"I'm fine." I replied, ignoring the woman as I started walking out of the place, spotting the door to the far right corner. She was walking after me.

"It's standard procedure—"

"I said I'm fine." I interrupted her again and walked out of the place, about to continue when I heard another voice behind me.

"I have your books."

I turned around slowly to see Draco leaning against the wall behind me. He had been standing near the entrance to the—I looked up—ah, Hospital Wing. He held out his hand in which was my backpack. I took it quickly, putting it on as I nodded thanks.

"Mother sent you this as well when the school notified her of your fainting." He handed me a small package which I hesitantly took.

"She…why…why did the school…notify her?" I asked slowly, turning the package over in my hands. I was more than just unhappy about the fact that the Malfoys were getting updates on what happened to me at school. I felt like my privacy had somehow been invaded.

"She's your legal guardian until your eighteenth birthday. That's why. Don't get too excited." He said dryly, pushing off the wall and walking past me. He took a few steps and paused, turning only slightly before adding something else.

"By the way, Potter sends his regards, he couldn't visit because he had class. He says that he'll meet you at dinner…which is now." He added, checking the watch on the wrist. "Might want to run along for your little date."

I neither confirmed or denied his little aftercomment, knowing that he was probably curious to some extent. I merely stayed silent, watching him walk away before I opened the package he had handed to me. I pulled out a package of Honeyduke's chocolate and a letter.

_**Anastasia,**_

_**I know it seems odd for me to worry over you when you've only been put under my guardianship for a few months now, and I only have three more months until you are legally adult, but you must understand that I care dearly for you. Please take care of yourself and make sure to get checked out for concussions. I've sent you a pack of dark chocolate as well, they say that chocolate is the best remedy for all that ales you. **_

_**Also, there is a three day break coming up to honor those who have passed away in the war. Come home for that break, I have something to discuss with you.**_

_**Best wishes,**_

_**Narcissa Malfoy**_

I crumpled up the letter and pocketed it, looking at the bar of chocolate in my other hand. I outright refused to eat anything Narcissa thought fitting to give me.

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"Ron, stop that."

"I don't think I will 'Mione." Ron teased, pulling another lock of her hair out of her loosely tied ponytail and irritating her further. She smiled though, hitting him playfully in the gut as we walked towards the Great Hall for dinner. I tried to ignore their flirtatious banter, rolling my eyes before looking around anxiously. Malfoy had told me that she was out of the infirmary five minutes ago. I was hoping to meet with her, our lunch meeting having been cancelled due to her fainting.

"I like your hair down more, it's pretty." Ron said affectionately and Hermione blushed, taking his hand into hers as they continued walking, completely forgetting about my presence. I stopped walking then, watching as they happily went towards the Great Hall. I didn't exist to them at this moment, they were so happily enamored with each other that there was no thought given to me. I felt childish then, a child jealous of the attention that had been taken away. And then I felt empty, lonely and inexistent as other students pushed past me, laughing, smiling, talking. A feeling of déjà vu washed over me now.

"Just wait until they leave you completely behind without the walls of Hogwarts to force you three to be together." Came her voice and her words cut me. All the worry and curiosity I had for her disappeared instantaneously as I whirled around to face her, my eyes narrowed as I looked at the pale girl.

"You don't know anything." I said, my voice hardening in response. She grinned, stepping up next to me.

"This will be much more fun than I anticipated. I packed dinner from the kitchens, let's take a walk on the grounds, it's not like your friends will miss you." She added on the last bit and again, it hurt. I glanced up and saw that they had already entered the Great Hall, so enamored with each other that my falling back went unnoticed. I was unhappy to admit the truth of her words.

"Fine. And to think I was concerned about your fainting in Transfiguration." I muttered and Anya merely turned around, leading me out of the castle doors and towards the lake. She handed me a small picnic basket which smelled of delicious food and took out a small, rectangular box as well. I took the picnic basket and watched in fascination as she took a thin stick out of the box and the lit it with a match.

"You smoke?!" I didn't mean for my words to come out as shocked as they did. She barely glanced at me as we reached the edge of the lake. She took a seat and inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in her mouth before she exhaled it in one, smooth stream.

"I bet Snape didn't enjoy your habit one bit." I said and her eyes darkened at the mentioning of her father.

"He never knew. Now what, do you feel is necessary to talk about? Your nosiness is very annoying." She said dryly, taking another puff of her cigarette. I unconsciously wrinkled up my nose at the smell.

"Why..why did Snape hide you? Why are you still hiding the fact that he's your father? But…where, where did you even come from? Nobody ever knew Snape had a daughter.." I asked, the questions being too close for the long answers they required. She pulled out a goblet from the basket and took a long draught.

"My father hid my existence for my own protection. During the first War I could have been used as leverage, in between, he knew that the danger was never really over, so he still kept me hidden. He tried his best to keep me away from being involved with the second War."

"That still leaves so much empty space. You're my age…who is your mother?"

"I'm passing that question."

"But—"

"I reserve the right to choose which questions I answer. Now continue or this meeting is over." She said curtly and I felt obliged to listen to her. I couldn't exactly force her to tell me everything.

"Fine. Why hide that you're Snape's daughter now? Voldemort is gone for good, the War is over now." At this she was silent and I believed that she was choosing not to answer this. But the look on her face told me she was thinking it over as she smoked, finishing her cigarette before lighting up another one immediately. The habit was disconcerting.

"Is it over though? Actually, alright, the War is over, but the repercussions are quite prevalent. I know a good amount of people whose deaths are linked to my father. I also read the papers here, only a select few believe that he had been working for Dumbledore this whole time. The ones who weren't Death Eaters still believe he was one and the Death Eaters believe him to be a traitor. It'd be unwise to let people know who I am, a lot of them have unfinished business with Snape."

"You don't think they would—"

"I would think you of all people would be the last to underestimate the cruelty of humans Potter." She said and it silenced me.

"_Hermione!!! Hermione!!! Let her go!!!" I screamed but all Bellatrix was smile at me, a mischievous look of devious excitement crossing her face._

"_Oh, but we'll have so much fun."_

_And with that she closed the dungeon doors. Upstairs, I heard Hermione's screams of pain._

"Let me ask you a question." She said and I nodded, pulling out a plate of food and shoving a generous portion into my mouth.

"Why are you so interested in me? Why seek me out? Of what importance could I possibly be to you?" She asked and I shrugged, leaning back on my elbows as I looked up at the clear night sky.

"I owe Snape my life. We all, owe him our lives. Without him, we could have never won the war. His death…I owed him so much. So when I heard he had a daughter—"

"You thought you could finally make up your debt." She stood up and flicked the burnt cigarette butt into the lake. I waved my wand and the butt disappeared. She glared at me and thought she had called me out on the truth, I hadn't expected her to be angry about it.

"Is it so wrong? To want to do the right thing?" I asked, looking up at her. She only lighted another cigarette in response. I wondered how her lungs dealt with all that smoking.

"It's not wrong, it's too late. I assure you Potter, that I am _not_ my father. You made his life miserable. Every year, you would throw yourself into trouble and he'd have to risk his life to pick up the pieces and make sure you and your buddies didn't run headlong into a mass suicide. It was not enough that you made his life miserable though, you never trusted him..you tormented him." She spat out at me and I stood up, now defensive.

"He made _my _life miserable! He'd go out of his way to punish me—"

"Because you were the child of a douchebag who acted just like his douchebag father!" She hissed at me and I was taken aback for a moment, but quickly recovered, grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards me.

"My father was a good man." I hissed and she narrowed her eyes at me.

"So was mine." She responded, reaching up and taking my hand off her wrist. She stepped backwards a plume of smoke escaping her lips as if to create a barrier between us.

"I'm not my father _Potter_. Whatever you owed him passed along with his death.. Leave me alone, you owe me nothing. I want _nothing_ to do with you."

I watched her stalk off, leaving me alone by the lake. But I could barely see her. She was _just _like her father. She accused me of things that I had no control over. She hated me for reasons I didn't even understand. And she insulted my father.

All I had wanted was to make amends somehow, to take care of the daughter of the man to whom I owed my life. But no, she was difficult, she hated me as well. My very presence seemed to put a bad taste in her mouth. I had just wanted to do the right thing. Was I a fool for trying?

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"_Papa…where is mama? Who is my mama?"_

"_I told you not to ask that question. I am the only guardian you need."_

"_But Papa—"_

"_Enough."_

I lay there, my head spinning as I tried to get the meeting with Harry out of my head. I was furious at him. How dare he bring up the subject of my mother? How dare he ask those invasive questions? Did that child have no damned tact?

I turned to my side, trying to remind myself not to grind my teeth. I couldn't sleep.

_Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. I went for months without seeing the only person who I knew to be my family. The nanny had very little contact with me, being instructed to only take care of the house and prepare my meals like the common house elf. I was alone, so alone. Every time my father came home my heart would beat in happiness. Every time it left I felt my insides crumble. When I was younger, it was because I missed his presence. As I got older, my heart broke because I wasn't sure if he was going to come back._

_I watched all my peers grow up with both parents, the strong, Russian traditions holding very true to the closeness of family. They celebrated birthdays together, they ate their meals together…they were happy even in the blistering cold because they were together. My father never showed up for my birthdays. He told me that if he were to disappear a certain day every year, people would become suspicious. His paranoia poisoned his entire lifestyle. I was lucky if I ever got a birthday card._

_And in his absence I yearned for someone. Anyone. I yearned for a mother. Once, when I was foolish, I asked him if I would ever have a mother. I never asked him that question ever again._

_The pain in his eyes told me enough to never broach the subject._

_But what he didn't know, was that his pain matched my own. _

_Oh it hurt so much to be alone._

I rubbed my eyes as I tossed in my bed again. I wasn't going to sleep. I just knew that tonight was going to be a sleepless night.

"_Papa please stay, it is Christmas after all."_

"_Your presents are in your room—"_

"_Papa I don't want presents I just want—"_

"_I must go. Stay safe Anastasia."_

_**But I want you. I just want you to stay. **_

I kept fidgeting in my bed, just wondering what I was going to do with all these hours I lay awake. I could shower. I could read. I could study. I could do some extra work.

I just wanted to sleep.

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"You look like shit."

"So do you." I responded to a somewhat amused Zabini. He sat next to me, reading the paper while his food went untouched. I was doing the same thing, my appetite having left me completely.

"Narcissa Malfoy is apparently in the charitable mood. She has donated 2 million galleons to the charity that is helping the orphans of the War find a home to live in. What a Malfoy move." He grumbled and I silently agreed, putting down the paper momentarily to take a good look at the boy.

"You look like you're about to die soon." I commented offhandedly. He merely grinned.

"Hopefully I will." He said and though the words probably would have bothered someone else, I was neither shocked nor moved.

"Is that a plea for help Zabini?" I asked dryly and he chuckled, his gritty laugh sounding a little too rough to be a noise of amusement.

"Not at all. I say this to you because I feel you can be objective."

"Then if you're wishing to kill yourself, why not go a faster route? Your…habit will take a while." I said, testing him. There was a morbid curiosity I held for this suicidal boy. A look of surprise crossed his otherwise blank eyes as I said this. As objective he had thought me, he hadn't been expecting this of all things. I wanted to see the sincerity of his plight, or if he was just one big case of depressive mania. Either way, I didn't care. This streak of cruelty inside of me wasn't unusual to me. But even I had, at times, thought guiltily of how cold and distant I was from the feelings of others. This wasn't normal.

"You are a cruel one Anya. And indeed, it is a slow way…but I am a coward otherwise."

"What pleasant breakfast talk this is." I mused, sipping the orange juice in my goblet as the thoughts raced in my head.

_He outright told you of his wishes for suicide and you made a bit of a joke of it._

_**I know.**_

_What is wrong with you?_

_**I don't know.**_

I paused then, rethinking what had just exchanged between Zabini and me and just how surreal the conversation was. It would have been a joke of a conversation had neither party been serious…but unfortunately, both of us had been honest in our words. This was messed up.

"You can't be sincere in your wish to die if you're afraid of doing it." I said, sticking my toe into unknown waters. I was never one to give advice…I always showed my thoughts through my actions. Yet, here I was, talking to the boy who was in line to win the medal of the most fucked up child in Hogwarts. Zabini glanced up at me curiously, studying me as if to find some other meaning behind my words.

"Does it matter to you?"

_Say yes. Let him know somebody in the world would care._

_**But I don't care.**_

_Out of ethics, say yes._

"No. It doesn't."

_Asshole. You're a gigantic asshole._

"Didn't think so."

"But I am curious." I started up again, giving it another try. He arched an eyebrow at me, something that might've been quite a charming look for him once upon a time. But as I looked at the boy in front of me now, he had been stripped of everything and anything he had ever been. He grinned wryly then, stabbing his fork into a chunk of egg before sniffing it. He put it back down on his plate and I watched the familiar glaze coat his eyes as if he had suddenly become lost.

"There is nothing to be curious about. I have given up. I feel this life to be tiresome. That is all."

"Obviously not, because you're still afraid of dying." I said casually as I stood up, shouldering my backpack with its contents for the day. He opened his mouth to respond but I didn't bother to wait around and listen.

_His problems are not mine._

_**How very Slytherin of you.**_

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	7. Music

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I watched her put up a framed photo up above the mantelpiece and for a moment I felt a sharp pain in my chest. In that spot used to hang a different photo. As her delicate little fingers traced the glass frame I felt another sharp pain in my chest. What would Fred have to say about me replacing our family photo above the mantel with a goddamned picture of PlayWizard's October swimsuit model. He might've laughed about it and suggested that it instead go in the bathroom, but he would have never let me replace the family photo.

_Family is foremost._

I saw the wry grin form on her face as she looked up at the swimsuit model, no hint of offense in her eyes. She found it all amusing. I leaned against the living room doorway as she made her way to the bathroom.

"You don't have a mirror in the bathroom?" She called out, her voice holding mild surprise. Another pang.

_Shortened breath, a dry mouth, a throat that feels like its collapsing onto itself. A sudden headache, a rapid pulse._

"George?"

I looked up to find her coming towards me, the look of concern in her eyes going unnoticed by me. She put her little hands on my shoulders and I snapped to attention, my mouth opening but no words coming out of it.

"It's nothing. Just had a tiring week."

"You're lying, but I'll leave the matter be." She remarked casually and I was taken slightly aback by her bluntness. She gave me a small smile and handed me a folded up letter, glancing at her for confirmation she nodded and I opened it.

_Dear Ms. Alexandrova,_

_I have reviewed your request to invite an outside person to the Gryffindor vs Slytherin Quidditch match on October 15__th__ and though, in other cases, I would be refusing such a request as the school is still on high alert for intruders, I am personally acquainted with Mr. George Weasley and would be more than happy to have him attend the game._

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress of Hogwarts _

_School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

"Your brother Ronald is playing as Keeper. I heard through the grapevine that you used to love Quidditch and thought you might like to attend." She said and I held the letter in my hands with mixed feelings.

"_Fred that was a lousy one! You missed Crabbe's fat head!"_

"_Oi George, to your left!"_

I slowly came out of my head to see her, carefully studying me, her watchful eyes surprisingly non-invasive. I gave her a grin.

"Yeah, a Quidditch game would be fun to watch. I should be rooting on my Ickle Ronniekins after all." I said, giving a half-hearted chuckle at the mocking name. She didn't smile and instead put her arms around my neck, putting her face against my chest as she hugged me. I froze, not sure as to what had spurred this.

"You are not very good at hiding what you're feeling. If you don't want to come to the Quidditch game, nobody will be offended, especially not me." She said softly and I blinked, slowly wrapping my arms around this girl who I had been seeing spontaneously for little over a month now.

"No, I'm not. But I will go. I should go. I can't stay cooped up in my shop for too long now."

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_Idiot. You goddamned idiot. I could fucking strangle you for being such a damned idiot._

I quietly fumed to myself as I was redoing a potion for the second time in one class period. The professor was getting frustrated with me and it wasn't like I could blame her.

"Really Ms. Anya, this is your second time—Mister Malfoy, partner up with Anya here and help her out." The blood completely drained from my face as I paused the stirring, the feeling of dread washing over me. I smelled his expensive cologne and knew he had come up beside me, his tall figure casting a shadow over my cauldron.

"At least you didn't explode it this time. Let's get this over with, grab me five Penzer tails and chop up the Malika root into four millimeter slices." He ordered and without a word of protest I listened to him, grabbing the supplies and beginning to chop up the root.

"_Papa, in Russia, the women traditionally like to cook for their families, even with the house elves around."_

"_Yes, and?" He asked, arching an eyebrow at this. I never really said anything unless there was a point to it._

"_Well…today is Valentine's day and all the girls at school cooked something special for the boys they liked." I stammered somewhat, now nervous in approaching this topic. I watched my father's face harden as he was not on full alert, wanting to hear what else I had to say._

"_I see..and do you have a boy you would like to cook for?" He questioned and it definitely felt more like an interrogation rather than an innocent question of curiosity. I looked him in the eyes._

"_I did, but I don't know how to cook. No one has ever taught me." I said, trying to hint at something but he completely swept it under the rug with a wave of his hand._

"_There is no need to learn, that is what house elves are for. Besides, any boy who will like you will like you without a soufflé to convince him."_

"_But still if you could teach me—"_

"_Don't be foolish, I will only teach you what you need to know in life."_

"Fuck." I dropped the knife out of my hand immediately as I felt the immediate sting of cutting myself.

"What's taking so long—you cut yourself? Really? You can't even do the simplest of tasks now?" He mocked me and yet his actions contradicted his tone and his words. He took my hand without warning and brought it to his face, studying my cut as I stood there in shame, unable to react as he inspected my cut.

"How could you cut yourself so deeply? Weren't you paying attention?" He asked and I figured it was a rhetorical question, so I stayed silent. He murmured something and waved his wand and I watched as my cut magically stitched itself back up. He still held my hand, looking at his handywork.

I found myself unable to speak—unable to thank him, unable to apologize.

"_Oh Anya! I knew he was the one by the way my heart beat so hard. I felt like my breath was taken away and—"_

"_That's all psychosomatic, there isn't such a thing as 'the one' Sasha. You're just excited about him."_

My face started to flush and I just realized that I had been holding in my breath for some reason. I could hear the blood pounding in my head and the seconds in time slowing down.

I wrenched my hand out of his and looked down, casting a small cleaning charm on the knife and picking up the root to start cutting again.

"I apologize for my mistake. Thank you for healing my finger." I mumbled and finished up chopping the roots, my face burning as I avoided looking up at him. By the time I had finished I noticed that Draco had stopped stirring.

"Now that we're here together, I can discuss with you about the break this Friday. Mother has told me that she expects you to come home along with me." He said and I wordlessly handed him the chopped up roots, the thought of meeting with his mother bringing a bad taste in my mouth. He continued, not really taking much mine of my silence.

"I'll meet you at 8:00AM in the common room Friday morning. Have your things packed. We will be leaving by train."

"Okay." I said curtly, trying to get the flush out of my face. My heartbeat at least was starting to go back to normal.

"_Oh and I can't get him out of my head, he must be the one Anya! He must be!"_

"_You're ridiculous. You're just obsessed."_

"_No, I know I'm not. I get hot just thinking about him and all the blood rushes to my head in excitement."_

"_That's because all you are is excited."_

"_Please Anya, for once you should believe in things like love. It would do you a world of good you know."_

"_A dose of reality would do you a world of good."_

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I stirred the cauldron, the goopy gray color of the liquid inside being the exact color the textbook had described. Not to mention, I h ad made this potion several times before. It was indeed, a useful thing.

"Oooh another one making this potion! Hope you turn into something funnier than an ugly cat! Hehehe." Moaning Myrtle squealed around me and for a good few seconds I really wished she were a solid human so that I could clock her a good one in the face, anything to shut that stupid girl up. I ignored her, putting the top of the cauldron back on as I checked the hourglass next to it. Another month and it would be ready.

I slowly walked out of the bathroom and froze at the sound of familiar voices.

"Sorry Ginny, that it took so long to tell you this—"

"Oh Harry, it doesn't matter, as long as you're telling me now that we can be to—"

"Ginny, please, listen to me. It's not what you think. I can't…I can't be with you."

"Harry…what are you saying?"

_The sound of a heart breaking. Crystal that shatters amongst a concrete floor. Oh your heart will never heal._

"Ginny...I just don't think we would work out…"

"Harry…no, you…the war is over. We can finally be together, you don't have to be afraid for me anymore."

"I don't think…I don't think I like you like that anymore Ginny. I just don't feel it—"

"It's the stress, you're still depressed over everything that has happened—"

"Ginny, listen to me."

That tone, it was a familiar one.

It was the tone of a person who was breaking right through someone's shell of denial. It was the tony of harsh reality to break down whatever hopes you possibly held onto. That tone, was a cruel tone.

I knew I shouldn't have eavesdropped then, but I couldn't help myself. This side of Harry I had never dreamt of seeing. For as brave as he was in the face of danger, he was a complete coward when it came to social issues and relationships. I peered around the corner and saw the bright red hair of another Weasley. In front of her was Harry Potter, stupid, stupid, Harry Potter. He held her hands in what he thought was a comforting manner, but all I could see was a whole other realm of awkwardness.

"Harry…how could you..? How could you…?"

Suddenly came Ginny's whimpering voice and the expression on his face completely changed. The hardened look disappeared immediately and the confusion was written everywhere on his face. He was now at a loss, this wasn't what he had been expecting at all.

"What do you mean Ginny..? How could I…what?" He asked and I watched the fiery red hair wrench her hands out of his and wind up—

_**Smack!!!**_

Oh, that had been a good slap.

"Years…I can't even count the years I've liked you. Hermione always told me to try and forget about it, that I should just get over you and I tried. But I knew inside that there was no forgetting you Harry Potter…no, there was no chance in Hell I was ever going to forget you."

"Ginny—"

"No, you listen to _me_ now." She raised her hand again as if to slap him again and I watched as he instinctively flinched. This amused me.

"Want to know why I wasn't going to ever forget you? Because I loved you. And that fateful day when you kissed me and told me you liked me, it was like my life had finally come together. Then, during some time in the war you told me you loved me, and to protect me, we couldn't be together. I didn't mind that, I didn't mind it at all…because I knew you loved me."

"I'm sorry Ginny…I'm sorry…"

"No, that's not nearly enough Harry…you have no idea…I waited for you.." she paused then, sobs racking her body. Harry moved to put an arm around her but she slapped it away, taking a step back from him before she continued. "I waited for you until the Dark Lord's fall. I waited for you after his fall…even when you said you loved me, I was still left waiting for you as if we had never progressed at all. But it was okay, because you assured me that you still loved me. This wasn't just a crush Harry…you made me wait for years only to break my heart. You…you bastard!!!" Again, a resounding smack. But I ducked back behind a corner just as she turned around and ran away, rushing past me without noticing me in the slightest.

_**Say something to him.**_

_Why? It's not my goddamned business._

_**He's hurting.**_

_She's hurting way more._

_**You should help Harry.**_

_I really couldn't care less you know._

_**But you do. This isn't just anybody…this is Harry Potter. He's—**_

_I could get to know him, what makes him tick. Perhaps make his life a little more miserable on the side—_

_**Why would you even do that?**_

_It just seems fun._

_**Don't do it. It's a waste of time and effort, leave him alone.**_

_Well, at least I've convinced myself out of helping him out now._

I smiled to myself, having battled out my conscience and walked into the hallway towards the direction Ginny Weasley had gone.

"You heard everything."

I halted, not turning around as I weighed out my options. I could keep ignoring him and continue on towards the Great Hall where the students were mindlessly eating their lunches, or I could chat with Harry Potter. The latter seemed like pure torture.

"Was I wrong? Was I wrong to do that to her?" His voice came, and it was so pitifully strained that I felt something inside start to twist. Even I couldn't ignore the sad tone that was carried in his voice. Slowly, I turned around.

"I don't know the situation Potter. I'm not the one to ask." I said but I knew my answer wasn't good enough. He looked to the ground and I watched myself walk towards him, leaving a space of two feet between us. I cursed my body for walking to him and then cursed my brain for not stopping it.

"You heard the situation. You know all you need to. Tell me, was I wrong?"

"Why ask me this question? I don't know you." I persisted and then he looked up.

I felt my knees starting to buckle at the bright emerald green that was his eyes. They gleamed at me in this startling manner and I felt my breath being caught in my chest.

"I'm asking you because you can be objective. Was…I wrong to do that?" I wasn't sure if he had even been aware, but his hand had slowly reached out and grasped mine. I froze.

_Let go. Let me go. Don't touch me._

"No. You weren't. The truth was going to come out eventually. Better now than later." I said truthfully and looked down at his hand which held mine. He didn't let go. Instead he let out a deep breath as if he had been holding it in this entire time.

"Thank you…thank you…I needed…I needed to know if I had…if I were just…"

"The students are having lunch. Ginevra just ran into the Great Hall, most likely to go and cry to Hermione. I'll give it a few more seconds before your friend Ronald comes bursting through that—"

"HARRY!!? HOW COULD YOU!?? SHE'S MY BLOODY SISTER! I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY BEST MATE!!!!"

"Told you." I mumbled, turning around to look at the red faced Weasley. Oh Goody, Miss Granger was right next to him, holding onto his arm as his other was extended, a wand tightly clenched in his hand.

"R-ron! I'm…I'm sorry! L-l-look--"

"ARE YOU WITH THIS GIRL NOW?!" He shouted and we all glanced at Harry's hand which was holding mine. Immediately, we retracted our hands and I reached into my pocket, gripping my wand just in case.

_Great. I should've just ignored stupid Potter. Now I'm in the midst of drama. Fan-fucking-tastic._

I glumly thought to myself as the enraged red-head glared at both Harry and me.

"No Ron! It's not like that at all—"

**Stop. Halt. Pause for a moment.**

Years down the road I will look back on this moment and wonder 'what the hell was I thinking?' I will ask myself just _why_ I had done such a stupid thing. And years down the road, I will still have the same answer: **I have no fucking clue.**

The instance I saw Ron lunge towards Harry I instinctively jumped forward in front of him.

This, rewarded me with an angry boy's fist in my face.

"Anya!!!" I heard someone scream as his fist hit my face, but all I could see was black, red, and a bunch of stars upon impact. I felt my knees give away and my body being caught by somebody. I heard shuffling of feet and more shouts…but I had no idea what was going on. I just hoped that my nose wasn't too fucked up.

"_DUCK!" I screamed and lunged at the boy, tackling him down as we both narrowly dodged a stunning spell. It was complete chaos. I looked down at the startled boy beneath me. His face was pale and his body was frozen with shock. He had never been in a battle before. He was a child. He was my responsibility._

"_I need you, to follow me okay? When I say duck, you duck. And if you don't duck, I'm tackling you to the ground again, do you understand me?" I asked him and he nodded nervously. Slowly he got into a crouched stance and I pushed him out in front of me._

"_Go. I will be protecting you from behind. Go!!!" I shouted and he sprinted. I sent curses left and right trying to get us cover. Then, I saw her._

_**Her**__._

"_Cruci—"_

"_Duck!" I screamed, but of course, the adrenaline that pumped through his blood made him near deaf. I lunged and tackled him, pushing him out of the way and saving him from the curse. But unfortunately, I had become the target of the curse myself._

_I couldn't even hear myself scream as the pain completely engulfed me, becoming a part of me as my vision went black._

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She woke up with a gasp sitting up abruptly and looking around frantically as if she were being attacked. Her eyes fell upon Hermione and me and she froze, her eyes narrowing as if suspicious of our presence.

"What do you want?" She snapped at us and Hermione leaned forward, putting a hand on the edge of Anya's bed. I could've told her that was a bad idea myself. Anya flinched and looked as if she were about to swat her hand away.

"You're in the Hospital Wing—"

"Obviously." She said brusquely, throwing off the Hospital Wing blankets and swinging her legs to the side of the bed. I knew Hermione was going to try and say something else. I could just sense it. I had known her too long to not know that she would keep her mouth shut.

"I'm so sorry about Ron. He didn't mean it, it was a mistake—"

"Please, just shut up. I don't care, I don't need apologies. Just leave me be." She said gruffly and I could see Hermione being offended immediately. Before she could worsen the situation though, I put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it slightly to stop her.

"Hermione, it's alright. I'll talk to her."

"Oh, _will_ you?" Anya asked, standing up from the bed and pulling out a compact mirror from her robes to check her face. I could see the dark purple circle on the side of her face…it was a disturbingly large bruise for a girl so tiny. Hermione stood up and a guilty look came across her face.

"Look, I'm really really sorry about what Ron—"

"I'm not going to pursue a case of assault on him. Calm down, shut up, and leave me alone before I change my mind." She snapped at her again and I could see Hermione trying to decide whether or not to retort. Again, I squeezed her shoulder, standing up as well.

"Hermione, let me talk to her. It'll be fine." At this Hermione looked up at me, a startled look in her eyes.

"Oh Harry please don't tell me what Ron said is true. You didn't really leave Ginny for her—"

"Hermione, _please_. Don't you think so poorly of me too. I just want to talk to her about something, after all, it is my fault she got punched in the face." I said and Hermione didn't seem satisfied by what I said, but she accepted it anyway, nodding to me before waving goodbye to Anya. When she left Anya arched an eyebrow at me, nodding her head in the direction of the door.

"If you're going to force my ears to listen to you whine, let's take a walk and discuss this. I want to go before Madam Pomfrey lectures me for something."

She said dryly and I agreed, walking out of the Hospital Wing with her.

"What time is it?" She asked suddenly, looking up at the enchanted ceiling.

"About two in the afternoon. You were only out for about an hour and a half. Oh here, let me do something for you." I said and waved my wand over her face.

"_Glamouris._" And the bruise on her face disappeared. She glanced at me and didn't say anything in response, instead, continuing to walk towards the Potions classroom.

"Where are you taking us?"

"To the Potions dungeons. Professor Wilson is nowhere near as paranoid about her classroom as my fa—as Severus was." She corrected herself, quickly glancing around to see if anyone was around. Empty, this passageway was completely devoid of life besides us.

"So Harry, hurry up and ask the question you've been wanting to ask. I have a class in twenty minutes." She said, entering the Potions classroom and taking a seat. I sat in the one next to her and fumbled in my words, trying to think of what to say. All the courage I had before in the Hospital Wing completely disappeared. Now I was again intimidated by her presence, embarrassed about the situation…embarrassed about how she had heard the entire exchange between Ginny and me.

"Why, why did you jump in front of me? You should've let Ron hit me—"

"Trust me, I wish I knew the answer to that too. It's not like I wouldn't enjoy watching you get clocked in the face."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Again, I don't know. It was instinct. Just a reaction to seeing him jump at you. If I could do that over again, I would sit back and watch you get what you deserved." She said, a small smile forming on her face. This conversation wasn't at all how I imagined it going.

_What had you hoped for then? Did you think that somewhere deep down inside she really liked you and that's why she took a hit for you?_

I guess yeah, that is what I had been hoping for somewhere inside of me.

I now realized how stupid that was of me to hope for something as unrealistic as that.

"Well…thank you. I'm sorry that you got punched in the face though…I'm sure Ron really feels awful about it."

"Oh, he'll feel awful about it all right." She said in a low tone and I was silenced by the way she said it. There was something so incredibly spiteful and threatening about her words. I looked up at her and in her eyes, I knew she had something up her sleeve. She wasn't just going to let Ron get away with punching her in the face. I was unnerved by this.

"Look Ron didn't mean to hit you—"

"But he did. Harry, this isn't your business now. Go fix your relationship with your best friend and try not to get me involved in your bullshit again. Otherwise, I'll make sure I'll be the one who punches you in the face. And I won't make it a pussy punch either, I'll break your goddamn jaw if I get dragged into you and your friends' stupid drama ever again." She glanced around, her eyes falling onto the swinging pendulum of a clock in the corner of the dungeon.

"Fifteen minutes. Any last words Potter?" She asked, a hint of dry humor in her voice. I racked my brain, ransacked it. For some unknown reason I found myself wanting to keep her around, wanting to prolong this conversation somehow, someway. But what could I talk to her about? What more could I say to her? What else did I have to say to her? I had no business with her whatsoever.

"I guess not." I muttered and she smirked, walking towards the dungeon doors when she paused, a small grin hovering on her lips. My stomach flipped.

"Oh, and Potter?"

"Yeah?" I asked dumbly, but that smile on her face, it worried me. I was apprehensive of it. What could _she_ possibly have to say to me now?

"You're going to be lonely for a very long time. The entire generation of the Order that your parents grew up with, is dead. Your parents, your Godfather, Remus…Peter and even the Professor Severus you once hated. You don't even have Dumbledore to run to anymore. Your two closest friends will be avoiding you because you know Hermione will be by Ron's side and the girl who has always loved you can't stand the sight of you anymore. You've been abandoned…again, but it seems this time, for good. You are all…so..very…alone."

My heart stopped and I felt my voice getting choked up in my throat somewhere. When I finally pushed something out, it came a wisp…a begging…hopeless…wisp.

"_Why would you say that?_" Was what came out, but inside, I felt the breath trying to push through my lungs; the blood trying to rush throughout my body and my vision trying to stay focused. Inside, I felt a rage, an infuriating anger that put red splots into the very corners of my eyes. Inside, I was asking not only why she said that, but what she wanted. What could she possibly achieve with that? What was she doing?!

But like any intelligent offender, the attacker disappeared after having seen the damage. She disappeared beyond the dungeon doors and I was left breathless and my head reeling.

It had been so random. Her words had been so unprecedented…and yet she had known exactly when to say them to me. When the wounds were still fresh and when I had not been expecting it from her.

But what hurt the most, was the truth of her words. It fucking killed me.

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"Congratulations. I don't think I've ever seen anybody crush Potter like that. Even I haven't made him as miserable as you have, and I've tried for at least six years."

I heard him say and for the first time since I've known him, I did not frown at the sound of his rich-boy drawl. In fact, at his works, I grinned, satisfied with the effect of my words on the Boy Who Lived. It was like watching his heart visibly sink to his stomach and his eyes become hollow. Oh my words…the truth of them, that was what was so fantastic. I had paraphrased all that was wrong with his life and shoved it into his face. I had made sure he knew that there was _nobody_ there for him anymore. I had made sure he knew that he was all…fucking…alone.

I thought my vengeance upon him was going to be some long, drawn out scheme, but with a matter of words, I had made him feel how he had made me feel all these years.

"It was only a matter of the right words at the right time. That boy is so facile." I responded, slinging my backpack onto the chair next to me. To my surprise (and much to my distaste), Draco sat down next to me. So, he wanted to continue the conversation. I learned to pick up these little things in people.

"What, what do you want Malfoy?" I grumbled irritably. This was a class I specifically enjoyed and his very presence irritated me. Not to mention, wherever Draco sat, a certain, pug-faced girl was bound to follow—

"Drakey why are you sitting here with Anya? Oh, and hi Anya." I merely glanced up at the girl, her distaste for me being near Draco being quite obvious in her voice.

_Why be nice to a pug when it hates you anyway?_

"Because mother has invited Anya over for the weekend and I would like to discuss the change of plans with her." He said smoothly and I knew that he had said for the sole purpose of irritating her, but the moment those words came from his mouth, I knew he had just made me another enemy. She immediately glanced up and the look of spite in her eyes was contradictory to the plastered smile on her lips.

"Oh? Narcissa invited her over? I should come over for dinner sometime this weekend as well, I haven't seen Narcissa in so long, my mother and her used to be such good friends." Pansy said offhandedly but her comment didn't get past Draco. He pursed his lips and pretended to wipe some lint off of his shoulder as a distraction.

"Key word is _used_ to be friends. If my mother wants you over, she will invite you. She's not exactly forgetful of such things."

"But why would Narcissa invite Anya—"

"Is it any of your business?" He snapped at her and I watched her expression go through a ménage trois of phases. There was the immediate hurt, followed by anger. These emotions flickered through her eyes like blinking flashes. In my head, I groaned, just knowing the dislike Pansy now held for me. Not only that, now she would be curious about me, wondering as to what connection I could possibly have to Draco for his mother to invite me over.

Why, why couldn't he just keep his mouth fucking shut? Did he ever think past his words? God…fucking—

"Good evening class. I'm excited to see what you will be presenting today. Now let's see…first up Betsy Carson and Arnold Wittelby."

And when it came to my name being called, I suddenly wished that I had a different name, that I had taken another class. I was actually _nervous_.

_You will be alright._

_**I don't even know how to play the piano!!!**_

"Miss Anastasia?"

"What? Oh…right..well um…right." I cursed myself for stuttering. I had been in much worse situations before.

I stepped up onto the stage and looked around the class, finding myself starting to feel faint from the attention and nervousness.

_You've fought Death Eaters…what is a presentation?_

I clutched the composition parchment in my hands and approached Professor Ivanovna, handing it to her as I leaned towards her to whisper.

"_Professor…the course said that the ability to play an instrument was not required. I have composed something, but I believe I will not be able to play it._" I whispered to her and she smiled at me, taking the parchment and looking it over.

"Well, then we'll just have to give you the music gloves." She said and handed me a pair of white, worn out looking gloves.

"Professor?" I questioned, looking at the rags she called gloves. She nodded and motioned for me to put them on.

"They will play the music in front of you for you. It is composed for the piano yes? They will play the notes and the beats you wanted, but you will have to concentrate on the magic you put into the gloves. The gloves, they will only guide your fingers to the right keys at the right time." She said as if it were the most normal thing on earth. I took the gloves and slowly slid my hands into them, nervously looking around the classroom to see the bemused smirks of my fellow classmates. Everyone else had known how to play the instrument they had composed for. I had merely done it by technical knowledge and by fiddling with the keys in the music room…trying each individual note at a time.

I felt the gloves squeezing my hands, magically resizing to fit my hands exactly. Nervously, I sat down on the piano bench and cast one more look around the classroom, my eyes falling onto one particular person.

He was the only one not smirking at me, the only one not seeming to be laughing at my inability to play.

He stared at me with a certain intensity, as if curious, waiting for something, expecting something from me.

_Fuck you Draco. You're probably just waiting for me to screw up._

Slowly, I lifted my hands and placed them on the piano, my fingers immediately going to the correct position as to where the notes were to begin. And as I looked up to the composition in front of me, my fingers began to move.

In Hogwarts a History, it was quoted that the strength of magic comes from the strength of life in the individual, and with this strength we choose how to channel it through whatever medium we like. In the textbook assigned for this class, the theory of music is stated quite similarly. It states that the magic is not channeled through our wands for music, but through the sounds of what we produce. It is not just the motion of a wave that goes through the air, the physical push of sound that travels at 340.29 meters per second. What is going through the air is the magic of our strength. In our strength is our emotions, our deepest feelings and soul. That is what fuels the magic, and that is what fuels the intensity of a musician. It means that a musician's body when playing music, is merely a tool, the physical, tangible, carbon-based item that pushes the keys, strums the strings, moves the sticks…that plays the music. But it is the heart that we invest into our magic, that is invested in the sounds we create. There is no step by step instruction manual as to how to put our heart, our magic into the music. There is only theory.

And in the theory, it suggests another way of living when we play music.

Our lungs that fill with air no longer breathes only air. It is with the movement of our wrists that we breathe, like a gentle push in the wind. And the way we see, is no longer just a visual observation. In this world, we are blind. What we see is what we feel. And with the playing of the music, we throw ourselves into that swamp, the swamp that we call our hearts, our feelings…and feed it through our fingers. With this, it is then magic and with the sound waves our magic is dispersed throughout the room…to everywhere the sound can reach.

But that, after all, was just theory.

"_Papa!"_

"_I am busy."_

"_Please Papa! Look at what I—"_

"_I am busy Anastasia."_

"_But Papa—"_

"_I said __**leave**__ me alone—"_

"_No! Goddamn it __**look at me!!!**__"_

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I don't know why, but from her, I expected something great. In all the classes I had with her, she showed average skill in most things. In Transfiguration she was quite good and in Potions, she was very knowledgeable and seemed to know it all by heart—but I attributed that to her father. And I suppose in Defense Against the Dark Arts she was very talented, though she seemed to be much better at dishing the pain than protecting herself from it.

"You may begin at anytime Miss Anastasia."

I could see the anxiety in her eyes, in the way she chewed her bottom lip and in the way her hands shook in the raggedy ass gloves Ivanovna had given her. Slowly she lifted her hands to the keys and began to play.

_A breath. A cold breath._

My vision started to become blurry as she played, but I didn't worry about it. As the music reached my ears, I felt a tugging sensation inside my chest. I fidgeted in my seat as the music continued. Something didn't feel right.

I was looking around the classroom but all the faces were blurry, I tried opening my mouth but my body didn't listen. I wanted to yell for somebody's attention, something was wrong, why didn't anyone else notice?

_Another cold breath. A sinking feeling. Then the burning._

I was getting angry, no, scratch that. I was already infuriated as I looked around the classroom. My eyes fell onto the blurry image of Anya playing the piano. I narrowed my eyes and tried to get up out of my seat, but I couldn't move. I wanted to lunge at her, I wanted to shout at her, I wanted her to pay attention to me.

_Burning._

I felt my fists clench and sat up straighter, but still, I could not actually get out of my seat. Something was holding me there, or so it felt like.

_Clapping._

And my vision slowly returned to normal and I could breathe normally again. All I heard was the sound of Professor Ivanovna's clapping ringing throughout the theatre stage classroom. I blinked and looked up at Anya who looked pale and somewhat nauseous.

"Brilliant! Magnificent for your first time! I see much potential in you!" Professor Ivanovna clapped and praised her while I pushed my palm against my head, trying to get the dizzying feeling out. I felt off balance, like I had been floating for the past few minutes. Somewhere in the background, I heard the professor calling the names of other students to present their compositions. I couldn't make out any of her words. I could only stare on as Anya went back to her seat. She looked as if she were about to puke. I felt like I was about to puke as well.

I closed my eyes, trying to steady myself. But even with my eyes closed, there was no solace. I heard something…a kind of whispering echo…but it was inside my head.

_**Look at me.**_

My eyes shot open and I somewhat frantically looked around the classroom. Nobody was looking at me, nobody was seeking my attention.

But I swore I had heard that voice in my head.

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"Wonderful job today students, I hope some of you will learn more about the magic of music and get past the technicalities soon. Your next assignment will require a longer composition, you will present them by the end of the month. Dismissed." The moment she dismissed us, the students stampeded out, excited to rush off to dinner as this was the last class of the day. The only ones moseying around were Anya, Pansy and me. As Anya got up I followed suit, ignoring Pansy's presence. I felt drawn to Anya at the moment, there was something I needed to ask her.

"Anya." I called. She did not turn around. She kept walking at her slow pace.

"Anya." I called a little louder. She still didn't turn around. A feeling of déjà vu passed through the pit of my stomach.

"Anya!" I had then shouted her name. She still..continued…walking.

_A sinking feeling. Then the burning. The frustration. The anger._

"God—_**look at me!!!**_" I practically screamed it then and immediately I regretted it. It was as if it weren't me who was in control of my own body. She stopped then, dead in her tracks, and turned to look at me, her eyes wide, full of fear and shock. They were questioning. I was still drawn to her.

"How…how do you…" She started but seemed to be unable to finish her sentence. For the first time since meeting her, she wasn't in control of herself, she wasn't calm, she wasn't cold—she was racked with emotions right now and it was obvious through her eyes. I approached her and found myself in a trance as I looked into her eyes. The anger didn't fade, and funny enough, the frustration only increased.

_Look at me. Look at me. Goddamn it look at me!!!_

"Drakey what are you doing out here? Let's go to dinner."

It was Pansy's voice that snapped me out of this trance and Anya seemed to have been pulled from her own. The distant collectedness settled back in her eyes and she turned back around without even throwing me a glance and walked away. I felt Pansy's arm start to snake around mine and I found myself too lazy to shake it off. She tugged at my arm and I wordlessly followed her, trying to gather my thoughts and wits back again.

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"You aren't eating again."

"Neither are you."

"I don't feel well."

"Neither do I."

"Fair enough." Blaise responded, stabbing his fork into the leg of a neatly cooked chicken. I merely poked at mine, unable to prevent my eyes from staring aimlessly into nowhere. I found myself still dizzy from class, still disturbed on a deep level, still unable to find a stable state of mind.

"What happened to you today? You're not usually this messed up." Blaise half mumbled and I barely understood him, his voice sounding more like a buzz than actual words.

"Music class. We presented our compositions. Something…something odd happened." Was the best way I could describe it. Blaise' eyebrows seemed to wiggle in interest when he looked up at me.

"You don't say. You mean someone in your class actually had musical talent?" And I was taken aback by his knowledge. This odd feeling, it wasn't abnormal?

"How did…how do you know about that?" I asked and Blaise' thin lips curved into a wry smirk.

"Before my parents…well, years ago, my family and I would regularly go to the concerts of Rachmaninoff. The concert of a real, wizarding musician is a sweet, euphoric release. It's an escape like no other, and drains your wallet like no other. I miss those concerts…I will never feel anything like that again." He said, the nostalgia painting his expression as he stared off into the distance with me. I looked back at the boy and was surprised by how much worse he looked. I didn't think it was possible, but he was looking even more frail and sick than before. On his left arm, on the opposite side of his elbow, there was a deep purple coloring as if his skin were infected.

"What's that on your arm?" I asked and his eyes glazed over as he glanced down at it.

"A minor infection." He said, but I didn't believe it. The purple had a mixture of green and yellow that looked like it was spreading. It wasn't minor.

"You should get that checked out." I pushed a bit, but I knew he would decline.

"It's unimportant." See? There was no point in arguing with a person who had no hope for a future.

"Why are those concerts so expensive?" I asked, changing the topic. Dinner for Blaise and I had become our mutual time of 'hanging out'. As the dining hall slowly emptied of people, we were usually the last ones to stay. Right now, it was still full of people as it was the end of the week. They had no worries of getting homework done. Tomorrow was Friday and we had been given the day off.

"Because real wizarding musicians only show up once in a while. There are those who become adequate with music, but the entire point of music in the wizarding world is projecting the feeling of your music into your audience. The good ones drown you in that feeling and you forget where you are. It's an escape, a kind of high that you can't get anywhere else—well, except, perhaps drugs." He added on as an afterthought. Again, I glanced at the purple infection that decorated the inside of his elbow. It looked disgusting.

"You keep up with what you're doing and your arm will literally fall off from rotting."

_That's it. Then you leave the issue alone._

"I doubt that." Blaise had completely dismissed what I had said and so I indeed, left the issue alone. We sat there in silence, accepting each others' company as we stared at our untouched plates. We must have looked like an awkward sight, but it was actually quite normal for us. I guess it was a special kind of 'friendship'.

"What does it feel like?" I suddenly asked and Blaise' expression turned a little dark when I asked this. He looked at me straight in the eyes for the first time that entire dinner.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Just curious."

"Would you like to try?" He asked and I wasn't sure if he were serious or not. Friends wouldn't really let friends do such dangerous things right?

_But you aren't really friends. You don't really care for one another._

"Hahah, lighten up. I was only joking. Now let's se…" He snapped me out of it and I offered a meek smile to him. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, putting his hands behind his head in thought. There was at least a minute of silence before he actually said anything more.

"It's like…it's like being able to withdraw into a mental shell. It's like walking in a dream while you're awake…it's a whole other world." He said slowly and again, I found myself staring off into the distance.

"It sounds wonderful."

"It is. And it will kill you."

"Do you think you will ever stop?"

"I have no wish to do so."

"Is life really that bad for you?"

The funny thing was the way the conversation sounded so casual. There were no whispers, no hushed words or worried glances. There was no real air of gravity but the words themselves held significance. Blaise only grinned at my question, now staring straight across the hall at the empty table of Ravenclaw.

"I don't believe it's particularly rough. Nobody's out to kill me. I have a very good amount of money. I won't have to work for the rest of my life. But I don't feel it's worth it."

"Why not?" But I already knew the answer.

"Nothing makes me happy. Every day is an inconvenience. I hate looking at people. I hate people looking at me. I hate talking to people. I hate listening to them."

"Thanks. I'm sorry it's so inconvenient to talk to me." I wasn't actually offended.

"Oh, you're the most inconvenient of them all." He said, grinning.

"Why's that?"

"You actually make me say things of substance. It gets on my nerves."

"And all you ever do when you open your mouth is seriously bum me out." I shot back at him. He grinned again.

"Then why do we bother talking to each other?"

"I don't know."

"Me neither."


	8. Mrs Malfoy

8:00AM sharp, she was there. In fact, she was the one waiting for me in the Common Room when I got there at 8:00AM on the dot. She didn't have more than a small backpack at her side and I was pretty happy about that. Girls generally brought way more than they needed. There was something else that wasn't normal about her as a girl either. She was dressed formally, a tight, waist high, gray pencil skirt and a silk black blouse tucked into it. It was sleeveless, but her shoulders were covered by a pair of thin, black robes. She looked formal, sophisticated and classy. Her hair was tied back by a single red velvet ribbon. It was the only thing that seemed out of place colorwise, but it must've have held some sort of significance for her to forego that one detail of her outfit.

"Let's go." I was curt and she responded to that, standing up wordlessly with her backpack and coming towards me. I hadn't packed anything as everything I would need was already at the manor. I led her out of the common room and out of the castle where there was a carriage waiting for us, courtesy of my mother having contacted McGonagall early on. Politely I opened the carriage door for her and she stepped in, not even mumbling a thank you as she got in. I was used to this kind of treatment from her though, I guess it was a mutual sort of relationship we had. We had done well ignoring each other for the most part so far during the school year, even as we had classes together we had been good at just forgetting the other existed.

Or maybe she was the only one who was good at it. Every time I saw her, I was continuously intrigued. Even though I had made it a point to avoid speaking to her in general, I found myself insisting on looking out for her. Never for a moment did I forget who she was. She was the daughter of Severus Snape, my godfather, the man who saved my life, the man who saved my mother's, the hero who helped save the world. Without him, it would be a whole other place. I never, forgot what I owed him.

"_To Mister Draconis Malfoy, Severus Snape has also left to you this letter." The lawyer said, handing me an envelope._

The carriage barely made a sound as it moved.

_**Dear Mister Malfoy,**_

_**As I had promised your mother, I have fulfilled the Unbreakable Vow to the best of my ability, but that had prevented me from taking care of somebody else. This would be my daughter Anastasia. I only hoped to help make the world a better place for her and I ask of you to watch over her and help her get the future she deserves. Over the years I have been distant to my daughter and as time has passed on, but that doesn't mean I did not learn about her.**_

She stared out the window, pointedly avoiding any real social contact with me.

_**I believe you will have to know about her to even begin to deal with her. She was a difficult child and she has grown into an even more difficult girl.**_

After the incident after music class, I had not bothered trying to talk to her since.

_**She is a good person first and foremost. I have tried my hardest to keep her out of this war (obviously, by my relocating her to Russia), but as she grew older, I started to find more and more evidence of her involvement in it. The war had touched Russia as well and she has smuggled many muggle, muggleborn and half-blood children to safety. I don't know when she did it, or does it, or how, but I know that she has helped on the side of the good. My attempts to shield her from it did not work.**_

She was now putting her hand out of the carriage, feeling the wind as we rushed through the cold, morning air. She had such delicate, little hands. They looked like the hands of a child.

_**She is quiet, she can be cold and she can be distant. She is not an innocent child anymore, she has grown into a girl, a woman, jaded and cynical. But she appreciates the goodness of people when she finds it. If you earn her respect, you will earn it for life.**_

When we got to the train station, I opened the carriage door for her and held out my hand to help her down. She didn't take my hand and instead ignored it, walking right past me to the train.

_**She seems shallow, even emotionless, but I know my daughter's heart and she is full of both hate and love. She is passionate and she is cunning. She knows more when emotions are best left hidden than when she knows when they are to be shown—I'm sure that's my influence. **_

I knew she wanted an entire compartment to herself. She picked one and I followed her into that compartment. When she noticed that I had joined her compartment she stood up to move, but I reached out and held her hand.

"Don't be childish. Just sit down."

Wordlessly, she sat down.

_**My daughter didn't seem to bright on several academic subjects at first, but she always will at least make slightly above average. She is very skilled in Transfiguration, Potions and the Defense Against the Dark Arts—this worries me. She is especially talented in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but only because she is knowledgeable in the Dark Arts. I tried to keep my books and information secure, but she went and studied it on her own, intrigued by the very thought that I had once worked with it. I tried to keep this from her, but she is exceptionally sharp, and I failed to protect her from the darkest parts of the magic of the wizarding world. I ask that you stay wary of this. I have never seen her or believe her to use the Dark Arts for her own selfish needs…but the Dark Arts never really leaves a person the same.**_

She watched me, unabashed to straight out stare me down in the eyes. The sun reflected off of her steel gray eyes like they were silver. They sparkled and at the same time they were dead.

_**Maybe she doesn't need saving, maybe she only needs a little guidance. But either way: save her if she needs to be saved, guide her when she gets lost, teach her that the darkness is not the way to live.**_

She watched me still, as if suspicious of me--like she were expecting me to do something heinous at any given moment. I arched an eyebrow at her. She didn't respond.

_**The last thing I ask is merely a request. It is something I have failed in doing so in all my time raising her, but it is something she needs. I know somewhere, at some point, I began to love her as my daughter, but I never understood how to show it. I tried to show it by providing for her needs, her future, but I never made a good father. Show her love. Show her affection. Show her what it means to be human.**_

When we reached platform 9 ¾, I again left first and held out my hand to help her down. Again, she didn't take it.

_**Sincerely,**_

_**Your Godfather,**_

_**Your Mentor,**_

_**Severus Snape**_

"Draco! Anya! How wonderful it is to see the both of you." My mother called out. She was also dressed as if for business, sporting a simple black dress which passed for exceptional both in the muggle and wizarding world.

"Good morning mother." I said, giving my mother a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She beamed at me, the sincere happiness shining in her eyes to see me again. She then looked at Anya and smiled at her as well.

"Good morning Mrs. Malfoy." Anya said in a businesslike manner and my mother also enveloped her into a hug, giving her a kiss on the cheek too. I watched Anya visibly stiffen and couldn't repress the grin that came to my lips. Anya was always funny to watch in social situations.

"Oh Anya, you look too thin. I hope you've been eating well. Come come children, I have the limo waiting for us."

_I am no child._

But I let it pass, to my mother, I would always be a child. We followed her to the limo and the chauffeur opened the door for all of us. As we filed into the limo I found my mother staring at me, her eyes crinkling as she smiled.

"Yes mother?" I asked and she shook her head.

"It's nothing Draco. I am just so happy to see you again. You look well. You've become even more handsome than since when you left."

"Mother, I've been at Hogwarts for six weeks."

"I know, but it seems much longer than that to me."

And at that I could not respond. Instead, I opted for looking out of the limosine's tinted window. My head was throbbing as I held back tears. I would never get used to this side of my mother. For years, since birth, she had treated me with cold indifference and only showed her love as a mother whenever my life was in danger. Now, now she expressed her love and her affection. It was surprising, the endless amounts of it. For a woman who had compartmentalized her emotions for her entire life, she had a heart of gold when it came to me. Her kind words, they melted my heart…and her smile, it made me so happy. Only after the war was over did I ever see her really smile.

I guess I owed that to Harry Potter as well.

* * *

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"_That is Draco Malfoy." Papa answered as I pointed to the boy across the room. He gently pulled my hood off along with his and I squinted against the sudden bright light of the room. I was standing in the Slytherin Common Room, in the corner as my Papa went around and admonished the students for smuggling goods from some joke shop or another. He had placed a Disillusionment charm on m making me nearly invisible to the rest of the student populous inside this room. Next to that blond boy called Draco, there were these two fat lugs of boys, seeming to laugh at his every word, agree with his every thought. He seemed to be their leader of sorts._

_**Draco Malfoy**_

'_What a great name' I thought as I looked at him. I had never seen anyone quite like him before. In Russia there were plenty of blond haired and blue eyed boys in Russia, but none of them ever came close to what this boy looked like. He had this arrogant look about him, an incredibly proud and pompous bearing in just the way he looked at other people. He was the epitome of the aristocracy. It disgusted me and intrigued me all the same._

"_And then I told her, she couldn't get a date with me even if she paid me a thousand galleons." He bragged to the two others and I held my breath, I could've sworn he had glanced at me. Papa said not to be noticed._

"_Haha, I bet you broke her heart Draco"_

"_Of course I—" He stopped mid-sentence and shut his mouth. He slowly turned and faced me, his eyes looking right at me, as if he had just gotten the shock of his life. His eyes had widened slightly and he had completely paused in everything he did. He continued staring at me and I hadn't realized I had held my breath. The two thugs besides him hadn't noticed the stop in conversation and grunted amongst themselves, asking the other if he knew what was for dinner. Nor did they notice when Draco stood up._

_He was walking towards me, his eyes now narrowing in suspicion. He glanced around for a moment to see if anyone else had paid any attention to me. Nobody saw me, nobody noticed me—except him._

_He kept walking towards me and I slowly let my breath out as he came closer._

"_Mister Malfoy! Get over here, we need to speak of your Quidditch position." My father yelled and as Draco was momentarily distracted, I bolted to the fireplace with a handful of floo powder clutched tightly._

A lot had changed since I saw the Draco of back then. Now, when he spoke, he didn't talk with the same arrogance and pomposity. He didn't give off the air of self-entitlement so much anymore and at times, I saw the traces of humility in his eyes. But the main difference from then and now was the way I felt about him.

He was quietly eating across the table from me while Narcissa sat at the head of the table. I snuck glances at the boy who kept his eyes on his plate as he ate.

_Don't pay any attention to me._

Is what his eyes said. He wanted quiet, he wanted to be left alone. I wondered what would happened if I were to leap over the table matrix style and stab him in the neck with the fork in my hand. I looked at my hand and realized how tightly I was clutching my fork. I relaxed and looked back up to see him looking right back at me. I didn't look away immediately, in fact, I stared back at him for a good five seconds before returning to my meal in silence.

"Draco dear, I received your mid-semester grades. You've been doing excellently. Your Herbology could touch up a little bit along with your Transfiguration, but otherwise you've been doing fantastic. Oh wait, this music course, your professor…Professor Ivanovna, she hasn't put a grade for you. Why is that?" Narcissa asked and I caught the millisecond long sigh that exhaled from Draco's lips before he turned to his mother.

"She hasn't decided whether or not she'll be grading the course as just a pass/fail course or as a regular course. She says that either way, half of us will be flunking it." At his words I watched Narcissa's pursed lips curve into a tight frown.

"Is she allowed to do that?" She asked and Draco chuckled, a small, wry grin curling his lips.

"Professor Snape had an 80% rate of failure in his Advanced Potions class. Of course she's allowed to do that." He said and I stiffened at the mention of my father's name. But I quickly relaxed, unwilling to show any discomfort in front of the Malfoys. Narcissa then turned to me with a smile.

"I also received your mid-semester grades. You're doing alright in your classes. Your teachers have written that you are exce[topma; in Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts.Actually, I have also received a personal note from the music teacher that you share with Draco. She speaks very highly of your talents. A good musician is a very rare thing, Your father would have been so proud."

_What do you know about my father? You don't know a single, damned, thing._

"I'm quite full. I'll be retiring to my room now." Was all I said through semi-gritted teeth. I abruptly stood up and walked away, making it all the way up the stairs and to my room before I heard the rushing footsteps of an unhappy Draco Malfoy coming after me.

"Three…two…one—"

"What is your _problem_?" He hissed at me, shutting the door somewhat roughly behind him. I looked at him blankly and didn't even react when he grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards him, his eyes boring down into me as he glared at me.

"Be silent, don't talk to me, fine, I don't give a bloody damn—but don't you _ever_ disrespect my mother like that. Her life hasn't gotten any easier since the war or its end either. She's suffered enough—"

"_Really_? Really Malfoy? _She_ has suffered?" I knew this argument by heart. Oh, the countless times I had played this over in my head. I had always imagined the argument of self-righteousness that would unfurl between the two of us. I had always wanted to ruin Malfoy's shelftered little world, but had never really the catalyst or opportunity. Oh, but here it was now.

"Yes she has! She has suffered immensely—"

"_They say that we are evil and soon, the word 'people' are taken entirely out of the picture. We become minions of evil, the followers of You-Know-Who. They never asked where we came from, why we made the decisions we chose…they never thought that sometimes, we never had a choice._" I repeated the very words of his mother's book back to him. And I laughed. I laughed loudly as his eyes narrowed at me with an incredible dislike. But oh, I had so much more to say to him—about his family, about their 'troubles'. God, I was so happy for this opportunity to let him have it.

"It must be _so_ hard to be the bad guys and then, all of a sudden, when the war is over, to become the remorseful bad guys turned into good guys. It must be _so, fucking, hard_ to live in luxury before the war, during, and still, after, even when a good percentage of the war is your family's fault. It must be just downright _awful_ to have your father pretend to be insane so that he wouldn't get locked up in Azkaban. Just terrible that you, nor your mother have ever worked a day in your life to put the food on the table!"

"I never asked to be born into this life. And just because we have money doesn't mean we didn't suffer—"

"Oh I bet you suffered, but you didn't suffer _nearly_ as much as you ought to. And the life you didn't choose to be born into, well you had the damn choice to leave it. It wouldn't have been the first time. But no, it would have been too much effort, too much of a sacrifice on your part to go against the flow. It was much less suffering to just go with the flow of your family. It was much less awful to stick with the family with mountains of money instead of running away and making a life of your own. So, _fucking_, awful!"

"You're being a brat—"

"Am I?! Are you so sure Malfoy? Are you sure you aren't the brat? _I_ showed your mother some disrespect? Oh, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry she has to _suffer_ my disrespectfulness. I forgot she's used to people licking the cow shit right off of her alligator boots. You've never really suffered Draco. Your mother, doesn't know the meaning of suffering. She goes out to the parties of high society still, buys whatever she can wag her finger at, and sits in this manor, reaping the benefits of her account of the war. She's never known what it was like to be hungry, never known what it was like to fear the death of your family because there are murderers out there. No, she was the one doing the hunting. You and the rest of your Death Eater—"

He struck me across the face and I could feel my face heat up as the blood rushed to the spot, inflaming it as it biologically went into the process of self-headling. But I wasn't disturbed. Instead, I smiled even wider.

"Shut…up..you don't know what you're talking about—"

"No…_you_ don't know what you're talking about Malfoy. You don't know a single, damned thing about suffering. You know all about causing it, all about pretending to be sorry for it and maybe a little defamation…but you know _nothing_ about suffering. You…your mother, your father…you're all too cowardly to know anything about suffering. You all sided with You-Know--…with Voldemort because at least then, you'd be the ones doing the attacking instead of the ones being attacked. And then, at the last minute, when you know you're about to lose, you suddenly decide to help out the good side. You've feared suffering, you've avoided it…you don't know a damn thing."

He let my wrist go and I could see the rage, the hate, the frustration all in his eyes. He had both hands clenched into fists and I was pretty sure he was contemplating on whether or not to slug me a good one in the face. I held my wand tightly underneath my cloak as I watched him, satisfied at the reaction I had gouged from him. The only reason he would be this enraged, would be because he knew that there was truth in what I said. Oh, but I had so much more to say…so much more. But he turned around to leave the room, cutting off my chance.

"Go Malfoy. Go eat your caviar on some nice silverware." I added one last shot and Draco paused for a moment, his hand on the doorknob. He didn't look back at me as he spoke.

"You're shallow, and you're wrong. But I do apologize for hitting you." He said softly and left the room. And a smile spread across my face. I was going to feel relief. I was going to feel a sort of release, finally having had the chance to say everything I had been repressing right to Draco Malfoy's face.

But I didn't feel it.

In fact….there was this odd, empty feeling in my chest now. I didn't feel like I had just won anything. I didn't feel like there was a weight off my chest—it felt like there was nothing beneath my ribs to weigh down on. I didn't feel any happier whatsoever.

_I told him what. I told it all to his face._

_**And what did that accomplish?**_

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

* * *

* * *

I slammed my door and clenched my fists, looking to the nearest object and pointing my wand at it.

"_Incendio!_" I got minimal satisfaction from watching the flower vase burst into flames for a half second and then turn into a smoldering pile of ashes. I looked around my room for another object to incinerate when I heard a knock on my door. I clenched my wand tightly, narrowing my eyes. What the hell did that stupid girl want now?

"What do you bloody want now? Come back for another row huh?!" I half-shouted at the door. I grabbed the doorknob and yanked it open, my wand pointed at—my mother?

"Oh..sorry mother." I mumbled and quickly put my wand down. She didn't even blink at me, didn't even raise an eyebrow to question my actions. Oddly enough, she looked even paler than usual. Her eyes were downcast and she reminded me of a beaten up dog, walking away with its tail between its legs. I had never seen my mother like this.

"Mother are you—"

"I overheard your conversation with Anya. I had followed you up the stairs to see if Anya was alright and I was going to turn around and leave when I heard you two talking…but I heard me being mentioned, and so I could not help but stay and listen." She said in this…this tired and beaten voice. I couldn't explain it, but just hearing my mother disheartened and seeing her crushed by someone so fucking _insignificant_, my blood start boiling and my head started pounding.

_How dare that stupid girl…_

I stood up abruptly and held my mother's shoulders, unsure of how to comfort her. Affection wasn't exactly listed in my resume as a skill.

"Don't listen to a word she says mother. She's a bloody imbecile. A spoiled little brat—"

"But she's not Draco. That's the funny part. That's why it's making you so angry. That's why it cuts so deeply into the both of us." She said softly and I let her go as if there were something crawling on my hands. I couldn't believe my ears, my mother wasn't actually falling for the stupid words of that little whore was she? No. I shook my head.

"Mother you're joking—"

"I'm not Draconis. I am not—"

"Don't listen to her! She's just a bratty child! Angry and frustrated and hating everyone! She'll make up bloody nonsense to have more reason to hate you and me! She's a bloody cunt—"

"Watch your tongue Draconis!" She barked at me and for the length of time it took her to scold me, I saw the woman that I remembered my mother to be—at this, my insides started to calm.

"Sorry mother." I gave a half-hearted apology and I felt my insides sink as my mother returned to her unhappy state. I didn't understand why I had gotten so worked up in such a short amount of time over something that seemed like a trivial argument to start. For some reason, seeing my mother affected by Anya's words drove me to near insanity…and the very fact that her words did strike a chord in me enraged me even more. The anger, it just blinded me when I looked at my unhappy mother, when I replayed her words in my head…

"Draco. I love you. But you have a hard life ahead of you. The way your father and I have raised you, it's not fitting for the way the world has become. I understand you're angry and that you think it's unreasonable and pathetic how Anya's words have affected me, but you will understand one day. I've had years to deal with it, years and years…you have only begun to deal with it." She said softly, leaving me confused and silent as she got up to leave. Right before she left the room though, I called out to her.

"Wait, mother."

"Yes Draco?"

"Deal with _what_ exactly?"

She smiled at me when I asked the question and I felt a sort of fear at her answer. What the hell could I possibly have to deal with that she dealt with for so long?

"Denial." She answered and then shut the door, leaving me alone in frustration and still in confusion.

_Denial? Denial of what?! That brat came from nowhere and decides she can talk to us like we're beneath her! What could I possibly be in denial of?!_

**Knock knock.**

"Yes mother?" I called out, laying back down on my bed and putting my arm over my eyes. I had a headache. I couldn't wait until this stupid girl's birthday, then I wouldn't have to associate with her any longer.

_You sure are doing great at showing your Godfather some gratitude. He gave his life up for you and you can't even be nice to his daughter._

_**It's impossible to be nice to her.**_

_Are you sure it's not the other way around?_

I heard the door opening slowly and soft footsteps enter the room. That sounded nothing like my mother. I quickly sat up and inwardly groaned when I saw her. I narrowed my eyes at her and tried to decipher that blank face; the lack of expression becoming a real irritation.

"What do you want S—what the bloody hell do you want?"

_Pathetic. Couldn't even say her real last name. 'Snape' too much for you? _

"I…I…" She started, but something seemed to be holding her tongue. I grew angry at this. It wasn't even a good reason to get angry.

"You bloody _what_?" I snapped at her impatiently. I considered just immediately throwing her out and presenting her the humiliation of being unable to say what was on her mind…but I was curious. What could she possibly have to say to me now? Was she going to continue the argument? I had a few things to say to her as well then. She looked at me and then at the floor, biting her lip as if she couldn't even think of the words.

"What I…what I said earlier—"

"You've come to your senses and you've come to apologize?" I sneered at her and she narrowed her eyes, about to turn around when this small, unnerving smile spread across her face. I suddenly felt uncomfortable.

"Yes… Yes I have. I'm sorry for what I've done to your mother. Ever, so, very, sorry."

I growled as I caught the sarcasm in her tone and grabbed the collar of her robes, pulling her face right to mine as I looked right into her eyes, wishing that hate were tangible so that I could stab her with it.

"Don't you play with me. Don't you even bloody try. I will _ruin_ you." I whispered and all she did was smile at me again, her eyes taking on this twinkle as they narrowed. She slapped my hand off of her collar, but she didn't move away from me. Instead, she leaned up and I could feel her hot breath right on my lips.

"No Draco. _I_ will ruin _you._" She whispered back right in front of my lips. For a fleeting second, I considered leaning forward, but the smile on her face said it all—she was expecting it, she was tempting it. She was bloody playing with me.

"Get—" She was already gone before I could finish telling her to get out. That enraged me even more. I bet she did that on purpose.

Why? Why was she purposefully try to irritate the living _shit_ out of me?! I wanted to get my hands around that girl's neck. Fuck magic. Fuck wands. I was going to strangle her.

* * *

"Draco! Are you ready? Anya!" I heard her calling and I took my sweet time, smoothing out my black dress robes as I carefully pinned my hair back with a small white clip. Slowly, I pulled on a pair of black suede heels and stood up, twisting my foot around in the shoe to feel the comfortable fit. I took one last look in the mirror before I walked out of the room, going down the stairs and finding Draco to be leaving his room at the same time. I refused to look at him and walked down the stairs after him, pausing to let him go in front of me. When we reached the fireplace downstairs Narcissa already had the silver bowl of floo powder in her hands, dressed to the fucking nine in emerald dress robes and danging, diamond earrings.

"I'll go first, then Anya. Make sure she knows where to go Draco. I'll be waiting for the both of you." She instructed simply and delicately tossed a handful of floo powder into their larger-than-necessary fireplace.

"St. Mungo's."

With the flash of bright light she disappeared and without wasting any time in silence, I grabbed a handful of floo powder from the bowl left on top of the mantel and threw it into the fireplace.

"St. Mungo's."

The feeling of being sucked through the very earth under my feet always made me somewhat nauseous and as I stepped onto the cold, sterile, floor of St. Mungo's, I looked up to see Narcissa patiently waiting for me, her lips pursed into what she thought was a smile. A second later, Draco stepped out behind me. Narcissa went up to the receptionist, not a single thing about her being subtle in the least bit. She walked past the others like it was no big deal, as if they didn't exist, cutting at least a dozen people in line.

"Ma'am you will have to wait—"

"Narcissa Malfoy. We are here for Lucius Malfoy."

"Ah. Please, may I have your wand for identification?" Narcissa handed it over and the receptionist took it, tapping the end with her own wand, a blue light being created followed the sound of a light 'ding'. She handed it back with a smile.

"Thank you ma'am. And who are the guests you are bringing with you for this evening?"

"My two children."

"May I have their—"

"Is that necessary? I feel Madame Tully wouldn't be very happy about to hear about this excruciating process especially from the family who has funded half of this hospital."

The receptionist went silent for a moment, a light blush flushing her cheeks before she gathered herself.

"Of…of course ma'am. Yeli! Please bring Mrs. Malfoy and her guests to room 103 of the Mental Rehabilitation wing."

A short Filipino woman approached us with a smile, a clipboard clutched to her chest as she addressed us.

"Please, this way."

We followed her down three corridors, going left, right and then left again. The walls were white, the ceiling was white, the floor was white. If it weren't for the sunlight pouring in through the windows and creating panels of shadows and light, it would've looked like one continuous sheet of bleached parchment. I started to go crazy just being in this damned hallway.

Until finally, we reached a room.

"103, here we are. We have alerted the nurses of your arrival already, you have about two hours. The wards on this room will prevent any magic from being used and a guard will be with you the entire time."

"That is insulting—"

"Sorry ma'am. Though you may be Narcissa Malfoy, we cannot break protocol."

"So be it. Hurry up children."

_Children. She called us children. The woman who was getting huffy from not getting her exact way, was calling us children._

I quietly followed behind both her and Draco, my hands neatly folded behind my back as I looked straight ahead, forcing myself to stare in front of me rather than the floor. I was nervous. I was anxious. And I was pretty sure that if somebody so much as bumped me, I would have puked all over the white floors and walls of this stupid hospital. At least it wouldn't be so _white_ if I puked all over it.

_Lucius Malfoy._

I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to have anything to do with him.

But no, Narcissa _insisted._ It was of the utmost importance that I saw that half-cock of a man. Pathetic, conniving, snitching, weaseling, selfish, self-righteous, pretentious, arrogant, disgusting, foul, despicable, lying, cocksucking mother—

"Ah, Narcissa, my dearest. Wonderful to see you. And you Draconis. And behind you, is that…"

"Yes darling, that's Severus' daughter. Come Anya, introduce yourself." Narcissa urged me and it took more than you could believe to not shoot her the look of death.

_Why?_

But despite that, I wanted this all to be short and as quick as possible, so I stepped forward and bowed slightly.

"Anastasia Alexandrova..Snape." I managed to say, the stiffness in my voice all too apparent, but I wasn't embarrassed. I wasn't the one dressed in a shitty white robe and handcuffs. I looked at the man now. His hair had been shaved off, his figure was now much thinner than I had ever seen him be before. He gave me this smile that was reminiscent of Draco's and carried all the same cunning that you would suspect from a man like this.

"Ah…what a beautiful woman you've grown into. Severus never did let me see you often."

_For good reason. Scumbag._

"No sir, he did not."

_Would the guard stop me if I went and strangled him right now?_

I seriously pondered it.

"Well it's a shame that the second time we meet, we meet under these circumstances."

_You're full of shit._

"Well, sir, I didn't think we'd be meeting a second time anyway." I said and I knew that my words were rude, but to me, they were as polite as I could be. I felt Draco taking a step forwards towards me. Lucius though, he merely smiled at me. He took it all in stride, years of cool nonchalance being an integral part of his personality. I hated him. I hated him more than I hated Draco.

"Narcissa, Draco, will you excuse us? I have something to discuss with Anastasia here, about her father. So it's quite personal." He said and I almost laughed into his face. Personal? When did Lucius Malfoy ever give a shit about things being personal?

"Of course dear. Come along Draco. We'll give them some time."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	9. Comfort in Lust

Lady of the Celestial Moon: It has been a while since I last updated, so that must be it, I most certainly have not uploaded this story before. And as for the grammar issues, I apologize for the irritating fact that they're there, but I'm generally just so happy that I finished a chapter that I never want to go over what I wrote and proofread it. I care too little because it's simply fanfiction. But I am deeply flattered you are enjoying my story.

Knight of 6IX: Yes it is indeed a Draco x OC story, but it will take a very long time for them to really get together in a relationship. This chapter, it's a nice relief of sexual frustration though.

SlowtheRain: Thank you so much for your review. I'm glad that the story eventually won you over. I hope it continues to do so :D

**Warning: Lemon.**

"Lucius."

"Dear Anastasia."

"I am far from dear to you. I ask that you get straight to the point of what you want to say to me." I said and as expected, Lucius' expression was stoic, that stupid fucking smirk molded onto his face as if it were made of concrete. He was quiet for a moment, his handcuffed hands folded neatly on the table in front of him. I hated how he was so calm and so arrogant even in the mental institution.

"That's not quite true. You mean a great deal to my family." And at these words I snorted, scoffing at what came out of his mouth. I leaned forward slightly, a small smile on my lips as I looked at him closely.

"Since when did you ever do anything _for your family_? Everything you've done for them has ruined their lives and made them miserable. Everything you've done was for yourself. You married for status, you had a son for your ego, for the idea that you need someone to carry your name. You care for nothing but yourself, you hold _nothing_ dear, but yourself, Lucius."

"It is Mr. Malfoy to you—"

"No, it's not. Not when you sit here in handcuffs, helpless, shamed, and with nothing but the numbers in your head that are relevant to your Gringotts' account."

"That is _enough_!" He slammed his hands down onto the table and I heard the guard behind me take out his wand to which I stood up and put up my hand.

"That, will not be necessary. He can do _nothing_." I said, my smile staying put on my face. I was matching Lucius. I knew him through my father well enough. In that split-second of emotional falter, I had seen his face contort into this animalistic rage. He looked like a beast only for a moment, but a moment was all I needed—it told me that I had hurt him somewhere inside, it told me that my words affected him.

And God, I was not done.

"I have built an empire under my name. Countless business and enterprises started by me and still paying tribute to _me._ The Malfoy name—"

"Means nothing now. People spit at the sound of it."

"Nonsense. Our name holds pride and establishment. It is a name in representation of decades of accomplishment and superiority."

"Lucius, you've been in here for almost a year now. Within that year, within the first three months, the entire Wizarding world had changed. You, your thoughts, your morals, your beliefs, your _name_, they are all relics. Old fads that are obsolete in the world today. You are nobody Lucius."

"That is—"

"You're wasting your visiting hours arguing with me, say what you originally wanted to say. I have no patience for your senility." I cut him short and though his face was expressionless, I could see the near-uncontrollable rage that flashed across his eyes. Suddenly, he gave that trademark Malfoy smirk.

"You are so much like your father. You obviously don't understand your place like he did, but you have his shrewdness, his coldness. I called you in here to discuss something Severus entrusted to me to give to you." I leaned forward a little bit, now intrigued. How could father entrust _anything_ to this man? I wouldn't trust him with a tuna sandwich. Hah, wrong time for awful humor.

"There is a journal hidden in his library at Spinner's End. It is just for you. He has spelled it so that it will only respond to you. He gave me these words to tell you: 'My little rose'. Hopefully that rings a bell." He said and I forced myself to stay expressionless.

_My little rose…_

"Perhaps. Is that all Lucius?"

"No, it's not." He said and I wondered if the guard would stop me if I leaned over the table and clocked Lucius a good one in the jaw. I couldn't help but glare at the disgrace of a man as he glared back at me.

"What else is there?" I asked in strained politeness and his eyes narrowed slightly, but for him, even such a slight change in demeanor meant something.

"Stop being so insolent you child. You are nobody to judge me. You are under Narcissa's guardianship, that means that even though it may be temporary, you are part of the Malfoy family. You will act accordingly."

"Never. I will never be part of anything that has to do with _you_. I will spit on your grave and dance on it when you are done with." I replied calmly and I could see the anger building once more in his eyes. It gave me a sort of sick amusement to infuriate the man in handcuffs.

"Everything I did, I did for my family. I did what I had to do to keep them safe. I did what I believed would keep them from harm. You think that I'm self-serving, but I did it all for my family." He said to me in this calm manner that irked me. Behind this calm manner I heard the dangerous undertone. He wanted to shout. He wanted to scream. He wanted to get a hold of me and beat the living shit out of me.

So I did what I had to.

I laughed.

"I love the thought of you rotting in this room. Goodbye."

Now, let us take a moment to be honest. I seemed smooth, calm, collected and indifferent to everything that happened inside that room. But I wasn't. I was an absolute mess.

The moment I left the room I could feel the burning in my eyes and said nothing to both Narcissa and Draco as I walked out, merely nodding to Narcissa that Lucius wanted to see her next. When I leaned against the wall next to Draco, I tried to count the number of feet that separated him from me. About six feet.

Next I tried to count backwards from ten.

10.

9.

8.

7.

And then it hit me.

It hit me like an iron fist straight at the apex of my ribs, thundering through my body and shaking my heart. My heart, it stopped beating for a moment as I fought my silent battle inside. The headache that formed from keeping my tears back was audible within my own head. I could hear the blood pulsating, I could hear my heart hammering and choking.

Lucius Malfoy.

"_Papa, where are you going?"_

"_To the Malfoy manor."_

"_May I come?"_

"_No. Never." He hissed at me and it caused me to take a step back. There were very few times my father ever treated me with vehemence. My eyes were wide in hurt as I watched him throw a handful of floo powder into the fireplace._

"_Malfoy Manor."_

_And just like that, in a flash of light he had disappeared._

_I waited for hours, hours and hours for my father's return. Every time Malfoy manor was mentioned, he was never happy. I began to understand that the word 'dangerous' was always relevant to the name 'Malfoy'._

_When he finally returned at 3:00AM I saw the dark, tired circles under his eyes. He did not say a word to me. He took off his dark robes and put them on the kitchen table without a second thought. Then he grabbed his Hogwarts robes and put them on, going over to the fireplace again. He was leaving again._

"_Papa—"_

"_Not now Anya. I am tired. I must return to my quarters. Have a good night."_

_The moment he disappeared I ran to the kitchen table to where he had left his robes. He never was this careless. He never left __**these**__ robes unattended. I picked them up and held them to my face, an odd scent filling my nostrils. They smelled of ashes and of…something I couldn't quite put my finger on. It was almost a rotting smell. I went through the robes then, every single place he could hide something until—_

"_Aha!" I exclaimed happily as I found an open letter. The wax seal had already been broken and so there was no danger in me reopening it. I just wanted one hint, one clue as to what my father did with all his time._

_**Dear Severus Snape,**_

_**With the Dark Lord coming to power once again I cannot help but be paranoid. I cannot speak in fear that someone will overhear, I cannot confide in fear that somebody will snitch. I entrust this to you and you alone. This letter will burn and disappear within a day.**_

_**I know where my allegiance lies and I trust in yours as well, but now things are different this time around. I have a son. He will inevitably be joining the allegiance of the right side, our side, with the Dark Lord. What I ask of you is to look over my son, teach him well, keep him under your watchful eye and make sure he does not stray. **_

_**Narcissa as well, she is a concern. I fear that her love of our son will compromise her rationale and that is something we cannot risk. Through Draco keep yourself informed of her actions and thoughts, I will not accept rejection of this on any part. Her insubordination will lead to her death and I will not refrain from connecting that to you as I know she trusts you more than she does me.**_

_**This is not a threat Severus, but a promise.**_

_**Lucius S. Malfoy.**_

_I paled as I read this letter. Who was this to threaten my father? _

_I had crinkled the letter with my fisted grip on it, shaking in anger as I did so._

_**The Dark Lord**_

_My father, it could not be, he would not be…he was a good man._

I forced my hands to be still as I put them behind my back. Lucius had played a large part in leading up to my father's death. It was he who had fed the information about the Elder Wand to Voldemort, he who told Voldemort all about having to take it forcibly through killing. I hated this man beyond all recognition..and yet here he was, alive and well while my father's corpse was rotting in the dirt somewhere.

*************

She was pale when she walked out and though she hid it well, I knew there was something deeply upsetting her. She didn't say a word to me and instead leaned against the wall a few feet away from me. Her eyes were closed and I could see her chest moving up and down from her heavy breathing. She was truly upset. And I was intrigued.

She had only met my father once and she had only met me…

How many times had I seen her before Severus' death?

"_Haha I bet you broke her heart Draco."_

"_Of course I—"_

_It was then I saw something flicker out of the corner of my eyes. Something I had not noticed before, someone I had not noticed before. She stood there, staring right back at me. I didn't know it then, but I would recognize her years down the road as Anastasia._

_Her black hair was in large ringlets all the way down to her waist and her silver eyes glinted like diamonds from the very corner of the room. Her lips, I would never forget her rose red lips as they slightly parted in shock. I was pretty sure my mouth had opened as well._

_Was this a dream? Was I actually seeing her? Nobody else seemed to notice her._

_Slowly, I stood up and started to walk towards her. I had to know. I had to know who she was, what she was doing here, and why I had never seen her before._

"_Mister Malfoy! Get over here. We need to speak of your quidditch position." Startled by the sound of Professor Snape's voice I turned around. When I looked back to where she had been standing, she was gone._

_She had just been a dream it seemed._

I wonder if she remembered that moment. I wonder if she remembered a time she didn't dislike me.

And the second time we met?

"_Father, who could we possibly be having over?"_

"_Draconis, do not be insubordinate. We are having Severus and another guest over. You will not breathe a word about this guest to anybody. Your mother and I have taken the Unbreakable Vow not to speak a word of this to anyone, you will as well."_

_Now I was intrigued. I was 16 years old then. Who could possibly be over that would require an Unbreakable Vow? I anxiously sat at the dinner table, looking at the beautiful china my mother had laid out for this dinner._

_When would they come? Who was the guest? Why did Professor Snape have access to this special guest before us?_

"_They're here Narcissa. Draco, get up." I nearly jumped out of my chair in curiosity of this meeting and as I forced myself to walk at a reasonable pace to the living room, I felt something heavy on my chest—now I was nervous._

_When I rounded the corner, my mind went blank._

_Just blank._

_White._

_Nothing._

_Blank._

_I knew her from somewhere. I knew this girl. I just knew her._

_She stepped forward and gave a small bow to my parents, a shy smile gracing her deep red lips._

"_Hello Mister and Misses Malfoy. My name is Anastasia." She said, and though her smile was shy, her voice was strong and pure. It didn't waver, it wasn't high pitched, it was like a deep, ringing church bell that blew with chimes. I knew I had met her before. _

"_Draco, don't be rude." My mother said, giving me a slight shove. Severus stepped forward and also gave Anastasia a small shove._

"_Draco, this is my daughter. Anastasia, this is Draco." He said and still, I couldn't find my voice. It seemed she couldn't either. All she did was stare at me._

"_Draco, introduce yourself!" My mother hissed at me and finally, I snapped out of it. I held out my hand, my eyes never faltering from hers._

"_Draco Malfoy." I said, the nervousness being prevalent in my voice. She slowly lifted up her hand and took mine, her soft skin caressing my fingers like silk._

"_Anastasia Snape. Pleased to meet you." She responded and I was unable to let go of her hand. God, I knew her from somewhere._

"_Well, you two will have to go to the separate dining room, the adults have something to discuss." My father interrupted curtly and all I could do was nod. I waved in the direction of the hallway we were supposed to go down and Anastasia nodded, falling in step next to me. As we reached the smaller dining hall, I saw the food had already been set up and prepared. I politely pulled her seat out for her which she accepted willingly enough. When I sat down across from her and looked up, I knew exactly where I had seen her before._

"_You were in the Slytherin Common Room before." I exclaimed, now finally remembering that girl. I remembered those silver eyes, those red lips…I remembered her. It hadn't been a dream._

"_Yes." She responded and I thought that was going to be the end of the conversation until a smile spread across her face. _

"_You did see me that day. You do remember me." She said softly, a sort of happiness leaking out in her tone. I was sort of baffled at this._

"_Well, I guess…I mean it took me a while to remember, but um..what were you doing there?" I changed the subject hastily. I wasn't ready to admit the impression she had made upon me within a few seconds. Even now, her hair was still midnight black and still in those beautiful, loose ringlets that fell to her waist. Her lips, they still were the color of roses. And her eyes, still looked glittered like diamonds._

"_Papa brought me to visit the school. I bothered him so much about it that he finally gave in."_

"_I've never known Professor Snape to give in to a child's demands." I said, smirking and she shrugged, poking at the lobster that lay before her._

"_How am I supposed to eat this red…thing?" She asked and I nearly choked on the piece I was chewing on. Surely she was joking? How could she never have tried lobster?_

"_What? Are you serious? It's called lobster you dolt." I insulted her, now easing back to my normal ways. She looked up at this insult and frowned._

"_Yeah well, I'm not from around here. If I asked you what Bylini was you wouldn't have a clue, but everybody back home would know. Then you'd be the moron wouldn't you?" She snapped back at me and I grinned. I liked her. I snapped my fingers and immediately our House Elf appeared._

"_Yes Master Draco? What is Twiggy being to do today?" The pathetic little creature asked. I pointed to Anastasia's lobster._

"_Go open her lobster for her."_

"_Yes Master Draco." I watched her face as she stared in fascination as Twiggy cracked open the lobster and pulled out its insides. She tenderly poked it with her fork and dipped it into the butter. When she put it into her mouth I could see her eyes light up._

"_You like it I see." I said, trying to feign disinterest, but for some reason, I was happy that she liked the dinner my family had provided._

"_I've never had anything like it! What is it called? Lopper?"_

"_Lobster you genius."_

"_Oh go shove one up your asshole." She shot back at me, but the smile on her lips told me she wasn't angry. But I was shocked at her vulgarity. Who was she to talk to me like that?_

"_Watch your—"_

"_Loosen up Draco. Today will probably be the only time we ever meet. Whomever you present yourself as to others, it won't matter. This is a one time thing. I'll be honest and you'll be honest. Deal?" She asked and the truth of her words..they lifted something off of me and as I looked at her, I thought that I could breathe easier._

"_Deal..I guess. We're stuck together for the rest of the night anyway." I grumbled, but I wasn't upset about that at all to be honest. I was excited to spend time alone with her. I was excited to know, that the first time hadn't just been a dream. When I looked up at her I found her staring at me and instead of being disturbed, I couldn't help but do the same. Those eyes. There was something haunting about those silver eyes. They were unnatural and at the same time beautiful. And God, I could not stop looking at her lips. Those were the most unnatural of them all. They were perfectly shaped and they were blood red. But..she wore no lipstick, no makeup. Her lips were just naturally as red as a rose. Her skin, it was like a cream, a smooth, pale sort of silk that lay across her body. And then her hair…the sharp contrast between everything else about her. She was like snow white. In fact, she was the epitome of snow white._

"_Draco, you're staring." She said, snapping me out of my reverie. And I couldn't help but grin._

"_So are you."_

_The door opened and we both sat up straighter in attention as Severus came into the room, his robes billowing from the sudden change in air._

"_Anya, Draco, there will be…a meeting down here. Draco, take her up to your room and under no circumstances are either of you to come downstairs unless I, myself, come and fetch you. Do you understand?"_

"_Yes Papa."_

"_Yes Sir."_

My memory stopped at that point. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember the rest of the night. It was as if somebody had simply Obliviated the memory from my mind. All I could see was a hazy fuzz, all I could remember hearing were quiet whimpers. I could not remember much else. I wonder if she remembered the rest.

And who knew that within those two years, something would change her so drastically, something would drive her to hate me without any reason?

The door opened and my mother stepped out.

"Draco, your father would like to see you." She said and I felt my thoughts cease as my voice got caught in my throat. I hadn't seen my father in over a year, I had opted out in visiting him before…but now…now I was here. I hadn't given much thought to it until now, but now as my mother held the door open and I could see the sliver of the man I once knew my father to be—I was scared. I did not want to admit it, but I was scared.

Ever still. Like always.

I walked in without meeting my mother's eyes and quietly shut the door behind me. There sat my father, his proud, blond hair completely shaved off and his face looking close to a skull than to that of a rich aristocrat. He watched me quietly as I took a seat across from him and I knew he was sizing me up, studying me, carefully planning how to manipulate me. I knew my father by now.

"Draco."

"Father."

"We have a good amount to discuss. First, I would like to discuss the matter of our family businesses." He began and it was like he had stabbed me in the heart. This man, would never change. Here he sat in handcuffs within a mental asylum, across from his son whom he had not seen in over a year and all he wanted to talk about was money. He did not say 'hello', he did not ask 'how are you', he did not even smile at me. This was my father and it has always been. I knew inside that I had hoped he would change, that there was somewhere inside of me that sincerely hoped he would have become a different man within the time he was sent here—but I saw then that there was no changing this man. I was disappointed, I was hurt, and yet I wasn't surprised.

"Yes father?" I asked politely, the words coming out robotically from years of repression.

"The businesses will be signed under your name as you are of age. But I must cosign and I can only do the when I am allowed House Arrest. That should be taking place within a few months, you will have to sign along with your mother to—"

"No." I found myself interrupting him and the moment I said it I felt the blood rushing through my veins and my heart beginning to pound. My father raised an eyebrow as if in amusement.

"What did you say Draconis? No?" He was indeed amused and for a split second I almost groveled an apology and tried to mutter an excuse for just speaking about something else.

_No._

"I said no. I will not agree to such a thing." I repeated, keeping the trembling out of my voice as I watched my father's face contort into anger.

"Draconis you listen here. Unless you sign the businesses will be handed over to the Ministry and you will have nothing—"

"I want nothing. I want nothing from you."

"Don't be a bloody fool you ungrateful—"

"No." Oh, the sound of defiance, it was like a sweet ringing bell in my ears. And my father, his face began to turn red.

"You idiot—"

"I will not let you return home. I will not let you be with mother. I will not let you back into our lives like that."

"Everything I've done for you! You stupid little git! I will—"

"You will _what_ father? Haven't you done enough?!" I didn't expect to ever scream at him, and yet here I was. I had slammed my fists onto the table and bared my teeth as I glared at the man on whom I could singlehandedly put the blame for the way my life turned out. It was insane, it was ridiculous. How could he so calmly think that I would go along with whatever he said now? How could he act as if nothing had happened? As if our family life would resume the way it always had with him at the lead?

"Draco, you will listen to me." He said, his voice dangerously low. I could feel the burning sensation inside my chest as I looked at the man I once called my father. I shook my head.

"No. I will not." And I knew if I stayed any longer, I would lose whatever composure and resilience I had left. I was terrified as he glared at me, his hands curled up into fists and his lips turned into a sneer. I walked out of the room slowly to find Anya and my mother waiting for me. Without a word and without another glance, I pushed past them to get out of this damned place. I wanted to run. I started to run. I needed to get away.

* * *

I sat quietly in 'my' room, hugging my knees to my chest as I stared at the marble floor.

The way he had come out of that room, pale and shook up.

The way he had run down the hallway and left so quickly.

I knew he was feeling just like me, but about what I had no clue.

For that moment I felt his pain and shared his hurt. For that moment I forgot about my hatred for him and cared for him.

But now was not that moment. Now was past that. Now I sat here silently, thinking over the three little words Lucius had said to me.

"_My little rose."_

I found myself standing up and like I were in a dream I walked out and went down the dimly lit corridor of this desolate manor. I stopped at a specific door and before I could stop myself, I was knocking on it.

"Leave me alone." Came his voice. I knocked again.

"I said leave me be!" His voice came again, a slight tremble this time. I opened the door.

"Did you not bloody understand what I said?!" He shouted at me now, standing abruptly as I walked in, closing the door behind me. I did not flinch at his voice and instead took a step closer to him, my eyes staring at his chest as I found myself too afraid to look into his eyes.

"Leave." He said firmly, reaching up to push me out when I suddenly grabbed his wrist.

"_Are you sure?" He asked._

"_Yes." I replied. He kissed me slowly, my hands holding his arms as I slowly pulled him towards me._

"No."

"That's too bad."

"_Please._" I pleaded and he stopped then, not expecting something so close to begging from me. Slowly, I looked up at him, unsure of why I had come here in the first place. I gradually let his wrist go and for a moment didn't know what to do.

"What do you want?"

"_My little rose." He said._

"To tell you a part of a story." I said and I could see the confusion flit across his eyes. His lips then turned into a sneer.

"I don't want to hear your stupid story. And only a part? Who the hell cares about—"

"The shrub soon stopped growing, and began to get ready to produce a flower." I started, my voice shaking now, racking my memory for every single word of this story. This story, I needed to tell him this story. Draco fell silent and I took it as my cue to continue.

"The little prince, who was present at the first appearance of a huge bud, felt at once that some sort of miraculous apparition must emerge from it. But the flower was not satisfied to complete the preparations for her beauty in the shelter of her green chamber. She chose her colours with the greatest care. She adjusted her petals one by one. She did not wish to go out into the world all rumpled, like the field poppies." I knew it word for word. Draco quietly sat down on his bed and I sat next to him.

"It was only in the full radiance of her beauty that she wished to appear. Oh, yes! She was a coquettish creature! And her mysterious adornment lasted for days and days." I felt him lean back on his bed, lying down with his legs hanging off the edge.

"Then one morning, exactly at sunrise, she suddenly showed herself." I laid down next to him, folding my hands above my stomach.

"And, after working with all this painstaking precision, she yawned and said: 'Ah! I am scarcely awake. I beg that you will excuse me. My petals are still all disarranged…' But the little prince could not restrain his admiration." I closed my eyes.

"'Oh! How beautiful you are!'" I smiled.

"'Am I not?' The flower responded, sweetly. 'And I was born at the same moment as the sun…' The little prince could guess easily enough that she was not any too modest—but how moving—and exciting—she was! 'I think it is time for breakfast.' She added an instant later. 'If you would have the kindness to think of my needs—' And the little prince, completely abashed, went to look for a sprinkling-can of fresh water. So, he tended the flower."

I opened my eyes again and stared at his bare ceiling. Draco's room was decorated with nothing now.

"So, too, she began very quickly to torment him with her vanity—which was, if the truth be known, a little difficult to deal with. One day, for instance, when she was speaking of her four thorns, she said to the little prince:

'Let the tigers come with their claws!'

'There are no tigers on my planet,' the little prince objected. 'And, anyway, tigers do not eat weeds.'

'I am not a weed,' the flower replied, sweetly.

'Please excuse me…'"

I looked over at Draco to see that he was staring at the ceiling as well.

"'I am not at all afraid of tigers,' she went on, 'but I have a horror of drafts. I suppose you wouldn't have a screen for me?'

'A horror of drafts—that is bad luck, for a plant,' remarked the little prince, and added to himself, 'This flower is a very complex creature…'

'At night I want you to put me under a glass globe. It is very cold where you live. In the place I came from—' But she interrupted herself at that point. She had come in the form of a seed. She could not have known anything of any other worlds. Embarassed over having let herself be caught on the verge of such a naïve untruth, she coughed two or three times, in order to put the little prince in the wrong."

This bed. I hated this bed.

"'The screen?'

'I was just going to look for it when you spoke to me…'

Then she forced her cough a little more so that he should suffer from remorse just the same."

"_Please…" I begged as he trailed his lips down my neck. His hands, they were carefully roaming my body, caressing every part there was to caress._

"So the little prince, inspite of all the good will that was inseparable from his love, had soon come to doubt her. He had taken seriously words which were without importance, and it made him very unhappy."

_He unbuttoned my vest, the painstakingly slow process all the while heightening our excitement._

"'I ought not to have listened to her,' he confided to me one day. 'One never ought to listen to the flowers. One should simply look at them and breathe their fragrance. Mind perfumed all of my planet. But I did not know how to take pleasure in all her grace. This tale of claws, which disturbed me so much, should only have filled my heart with tenderness and pity.' "

_My fingers, they were mingled into his hair as I grabbed a fistful. The first shock of pain which racked my body was quickly followed by tears. He froze in fear, looking at me in worry._

"_Are you—"_

"_I'm fine, keep going."_

"And he continued his confidences: 'The fact is that I did not know how to understand anything! I ought to have judged by deeds and not by words. She cast her fragrance and her radiance over me. I ought never to have run away from her…I ought to have guessed all the affection that lay behind her poor little strategems. Flowers are so inconsistent! But I was too young to know how to love her…'"

It was quiet then. We lay there in silence in the comfort of the sound of our breathing.

"Is that it?" He asked suddenly and I nodded.

"That is all I remember."

"What is the story called?"

"The Little Prince." I answered and he fell quiet again. I closed my eyes.

_Our bodies moved together and as the pain slowly passed away there was a numbness in my body then. His sweaty skin which brushed against me was warm and hot. His hands, they held mine tightly as he moved. Neither one of us really knew what we were doing._

"Why would you tell me that story?

"Did you not like it?"

"No it's not—what do you want from me? Why are you here? Why did you feel the need to come here and tell me that story?" He asked now turning over to me and I could feel his breath on me. I faced him as well, our faces only a few inches apart as I looked him in the eye. He would not remember. But I did.

"Comfort." I whispered and there was something unfamiliar that went through his expression. He was confused. Slowly, I closed the gap between us and pressed my lips against his. I was hesitant and I felt his body stiffen completely against me. I didn't stop though. I needed this. He needed this.

Gradually he loosened up and deepened the kiss.

* * *

I didn't know what the hell she was doing, starting that kiss, but I found myself unable to pull away. Her lips, they were soft and so familiar. I slowly moved my body and had hers pinned underneath me as she put her hands behind my neck, pulling me into an even deeper kiss. She parted her lips slightly and I took the opportunity and plunged my tongue into her mouth, tasting the sweet essence of _her_. This, this seemed familiar. It was like I had done this before.

Our movements became a little more hurried. She had shed her robes and I was unzipping her sweatshirt while she undid my belt buckle. Within seconds we had stripped each other completely and found ourselves underneath my covers. My hands, they went instinctively to her breasts. Her own hands had gone down under and were stroking me gently. Nothing of this seemed out of sorts with me.

She gripped my cock and I let out a moan as her movements started to pick up speed.

"Anya…" I moaned and at the sound of her name her eyes flickered to mine. Her hands stopped what they were doing and wrapped around my neck, pulling me down for another kiss. I complied and my hand travelled down her body until it reached its destination. Slowly I started to rub up and down the wetness that was coming from between her legs. Her scent. Her raw scent. It drove me insane.

"Draco…please…hurry…" She whispered frantically and I was of the same sentiment. I positioned myself over her and before I could even think she had thrust her hips upwards, catching me offguard and sending me into a split-second of ecstasy.

The idea of gradual progression had flown out the window and within minutes we were fucking hard and we were fucking like there was no tomorrow. The noises which escaped her lips only drove me to thrust my hips harder. The feeling of going in and out of her while her legs were wrapped around my waist—bloody hell.

"Fuck.." She gasped and I could feel the walls of her pussy starting to tighten. I moved faster, the burn of her nails digging into my back giving me an odd sensation. Within seconds I was feeling it, I was losing it. I bit my lip and as her convulsions started, I couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Bloody hell.." I moaned, cumming into her, a sweet release that I didn't give much thought to. I stayed inside of her like that as we both relaxed. Slowly I pulled out and rolled off of her. Her hand rummaged through the blankets and picked up her wand.

"Scourgify." She muttered and a very crude feeling of being washed came over me. She sat up and already began to put her clothes back on.

That was it? She was just here for a fuck and then she was gone?

"You're leaving?"

"Yes. We go back to Hogwarts tomorrow morning. It would do you good as well to go to sleep." Was her curt reply.

"Oh and Draco?" She paused at my door.

"What?"

She turned around, a look of remorse in her eyes as she pointed her wand at me.

"_Obliviate._"


	10. Pansy Parkinson

Hey uh…if you guys could comment, give me advice or opinions, it would be great. I really would appreciate feedback, I don't want to just be narrating this stuff to a blank wall. Aye?

**************************************88

The train hit an unpleasant bump, causing me to hit my head against the wall and wake up. I sort of spluttered for a bit, trying to gather my bearings and remember just exactly where I was.

The Hogwarts Express. I had just come back from an unhappy trip back home.

As unpleasant as it was, I had woken up this morning feeling so refreshed and oddly enough, happy. I recalled going up to my room in a sour mood, but this morning, I felt pretty fantastic. Anya and I hadn't been the only ones to visit our families over the three day weekend, there were plenty of others who had done the same. Perhaps it was because the paranoia of the war still hung around the air that families were desperate to see their children whenever possible.

When the train came to a halt I found myself…smiling. I was smiling as I pulled along my very light carry-on onto the soft green grass. As I made my way towards the thestral-pulled carriages I saw Anya hop into an empty one.

The smile was wiped off my face for some reason and I found myself frowning at her. I decided there would be a change of plans, I was going to join her in her carriage.

The moment I hopped into her carriage I expected a look of disdain, contempt, hatred and even disgust—but the look of fear? Not so much.

"What are you doing?" She almost _stuttered_ when she asked this and I raised an eyebrow, sitting across from her and leaning back into a more comfortable position.

"Sitting, in the carriage. I'm on my way back to Hogwarts." I replied smartly and she narrowed her eyes at me then.

It was interesting, the way she looked now. Her hair seemed disheveled and she was looking pale, perhaps even a little sickly. After our short exchange she refused to look at me and instead concentrated on looking outside the carriage window. As for me, I couldn't help but stare at her.

Something didn't feel quite right.

Looking at her made me feel like I were forgetting something. Was there something I was supposed to say to her? Had my mother given me a message to relay to her?

No. That wasn't it.

But fuck, I was forgetting something. I just knew it.

She glanced at me for a moment before continuing to look out the window, and again, I felt like I was supposed to remember something.

All that resulted in though, was a giant headache.

I hissed something unintelligible as I grabbed my head, trying to somehow calm the thunderous noise that was going through it now. It was so bloody..bloody…loud!!!! I was now writhing in my seat, my vision having left me as this headache started to take over. The sound of grinding, the images of lights flashing before me—I thought I was having a seizure.

"Malfoy?" I heard a voice call out in the distance, but I couldn't respond, my head, there was a stampede going on in there.

"Draco!" And I was snapped out it. I found myself with my head cradled in Anya's lap as her face hovered over mine, her hair gently laying over me as she stared into my eyes, a look of concern dressing her. This was the first time she ever looked at me like that.

"_Draco…"_ I heard in my head and the faintest trace of a headache started to appear again. I shook my head and she immediately sat back up, shoving me off of her lap unceremoniously. I sat up in a daze, staring at Anya who sat next to me. Her eyes were glued onto the floor of the carriage.

There was something so familiar.

***************************88

"Fuck! Fuck! Fucking, fuck!!!" I kicked over the cauldron and immediately regretted it as the contents spilled all across the bathroom.

"Ooooh somebody's having an awful day! How wonderful!" Moaning Myrtle cackled and I didn't even turn to look at her. I was staring at the potion that lay on the floor.

Weeks of work. That was weeks of work, all going down the drain as it started to spread.

"Polyjuice Potion not working out for you? Hehehe! Can't imagine who you'd want to be!" She cackled again and I sorely wished that ghosts weren't impervious to magic. If I could just hex her a good one…

"Augh! Fuck! Why did I sleep with him!?" I screamed to nobody, waving my wand and cleaning up the mess that was on the floor of the abandoned bathroom. Weeks! Weeks of carefully brewing that fucking potion! And now, I had gone and just messed it all up.

"Oooh at least you had time for a romance—"

"—shut up you silly ghost! Even if you were alive nobody was going to pay you any attention anyway." I shot at her and immediately I saw her face contort from the glee she sported earlier, to one who was about to cry. Ah. God damn it.

"Waaaaaaaaaah!!!! Oh Moaning Myrtle she's nobody?! Come here to make fun of me—"

I didn't even stick around to apologize or listen to the rest of her stupid rant. I left the bathroom fuming at my own farce.

Why? Why did I do it?! I was well on my way to making a complete fool of Draco, and within one weekend, I had managed to screw that all up. I had managed to care for him, to touch him—to goddamn fuck him.

And it was like everything had come back. Those feelings from the very first time we had dinner together…the feelings I had from the very first time I ever laid eyes on that stupid blond head. I was on the verge of tears.

Years…years of growing to hate him, to distance myself from him and the moment I saw the very inkling of his heart again, I had thrown caution to the winds and melted at the sound of his voice.

"_Anya…oh God Anya…"_

"Fuck!" I hurled my bag against the wall of the corridor and could hear the shattering of various ink wells from inside my bag. Great. Just fantastic. Wonderful. Brilliant. Goddamn _superb_.

"The Blarney pixies bothering you again?" I heard her voice and immediately I felt the anger subside a little bit. I turned around to see Luna giving me a small smile and I found myself returning it.

"Must be." I said and Luna nodded her head in understanding, but I saw in her eyes something else. She knew more than she let on. She wasn't just all foolish fantasies. She waved her wand and I saw the spilling ink disappear and my bag returned to me.

"There were a lot of times my ink wells broke too, I got really good at the charm to fix them." She said airily and I thanked her, shouldering my backpack as I tried to think of what time it was.

"It's a lovely night tonight. Today's the day before Halloween, my dad told me that the Syto Pygmies can be found around bodies of water on Halloween eve. I'm going to go find some." She said and again I found myself bewildered. Was she asking me to go for a walk with her or was she serious about finding such stupid things?

"Syto Pygmies?" I asked and Luna's face seemed to light up at the thought.

"They sometimes glow bright blue. They're little pygmies that make you really happy when they touch you. They're quite rare and magical." She answered and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Okay Luna, I'll come with you. We'll go find these pygmies together." I said and she smiled, handing me a glass jar.

"How wonderful! Be careful though, it's been said that sometimes if you're not paying attention they get stuck in your ears."

"I'll try to remember that."

******************************888

"What in the world is Luna doing out at this time? She knows that curfew's in an hour." I stated, looking out of the Gryffindor Common Room window as Harry looked out with me.

"Who's that girl with her?" I asked to nobody really, squinting my eyes and trying to make her out. Harry squinted as well.

"That's Anya." He said and I froze, quickly stealing a glance behind me where Ron was sitting on the couch, doing his Potions essay at the last minute…like always. At her name I saw Ron visibly stiffen and I inwardly groaned.

"You would know, wouldn't you Harry?" He said spitefully and I could see Harry visibly wince.

"Ron it's not—"

"Whatever, I'm going to finish this in my room." He said with a huff, gathering up his books and leaving. I stared after him sadly and shared a look with Harry. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he continued to look out the window.

"Harry, he'll come around soon enough." I assured him, gently putting an arm around his shoulder. He shook his head.

"I deserve it. I wish he would just try and punch me again and get it out." He said and I bit my lip, thinking back to the time Anya had ungracefully taken a punch to the face.

"It'll be alright." I said lamely, knowing that I couldn't really say much more on the subject. Harry sighed again.

"I promised him. I promised him I wouldn't hurt his sister and I had fully intended to keep that promise. If I had shown any restraint and had never gotten involved with her—"

"You can't help who you like Harry. Things don't always turn out the way people think they will. It would've been naïve to think that from the very first kiss you and Ginny would get married and live happily ever after. We're young, relationships happen and they break, it's normal."

"As if we've ever had a choice in being 'normal' Hermione." I said, giving a dry, humorless chuckle as I watched the two girls near the lake, walking around very slowly. I watched them both, the way they interacted. Anya, I could barely make her out, but inside, I knew she was smiling. That girl, she was so bloody weird. Whenever I passed her in the hallways, she pretended not to see me, and when we did happen to look at each other, all her eyes ever held for me were cold contempt. In fact, it was like looking at a young, female Snape. She treated me just like her father had.

"Nobody seems to want to question where she really came from. Students don't just transfer to Hogwarts for their last year…especially this year." Hermione said and I smiled. She was always calculating, always questioning—always so perceptive. If she only knew.

"What does it matter to be suspicious now? The war is over now for good isn't it? Isn't everything…done with now?" I asked and I saw Hermione nod. When she nodded I felt my insides drop. I wanted her to disagree. I wanted her to say 'no, everything is not just done with now'. But for Hermione, everything was done with. She was living without fear now, living happily, building a relationship with Ron and breathing freely without the thought of Voldemort to worry her. She wasn't the only one.

But me. It felt like everything wasn't just done, it felt like everything was simply over. I was Harry Potter, the boy who saved the world, again. But there was no need for me now. My usefulness to this society had come and gone, all that was left now was the fame…the glory…everything that I didn't want.

"Oh dear, Luna's fallen into the lake." Hermione said exasperatedly, gathering her robe to go outside. She was going to be a good mother one day.

"Hermione, she'll be fine." I said amusedly as I grabbed my own cloak to follow her out of the Common Room. Hermione shot me a 'look' and I couldn't help but grin.

"It's almost curfew and it would do no good for her to be out like this. Besides, it's cold now."

"I think you're just bored and want to take points off." I teased lightly and Hermione gave me a punch to the shoulder before we climbed out, hurrying down the corridors and out of the castle. We got to the lake just in time to see Anya diving in after Luna, something clutched tightly in her hands. Now I was beginning to worry.

"You think they're alright?" Hermione asked, going up to the edge of the lake and peering down—

"Augh!" Hermione screamed as water splashed everywhere. I watched Anya surfacing with an unconscious Luna in her arms. She dragged Luna's body and immediately I ran over to them, crouching next to Anya as I looked at Luna.

"What happened—" I began but before I could say anything, Anya had already tilted Luna's head back and jaw open. Hermione and I silently watched as Anya began to perform CPR on her, breathing air into Luna's mouth and then giving short pumps onto her chest. Within moments Luna spluttered to life, spitting out mouthfuls of water and sitting up. I let out a breath.

"Luna what in the world were you thinking going into the lake like that?!" Hermione nearly screeched as she crouched near her friend, taking off her cloak and wrapping it around Luna. Luna only grinned and held up a jar with flickering blue lights inside.

"I found them. I found Syto pygmies." She said happily as if she hadn't just nearly drowned. I shook my head and rubbed Luna on the back before looking at Anya who was also drenched but with no expression on her face.

"I'm so sorry Anya that you had to come in and save me. You must be cold." Luna said kindly and without thinking I took off my cloak and wrapped it around Anya, who didn't even spare me a look and definitely not a thank you. Anya had her eyes glued to Luna.

"Don't do that Luna. Don't ever do that again." She said, and I could hear anger in her voice. But I knew where this anger came from…she cared for Luna. Luna smiled again, holding up her jar.

"But I did get them."

"So did I." Anya said with a small smile, pulling out a small jar from underneath her robes. She placed it in front of Luna, the little blue lights in the jar flickering on and off. I was at a loss. Hermione gently pulled Luna up to stand.

"Luna, I don't know what Syto pygmies are, but we need to get you out of those wet clothes come on. You too Anya. It's almost curfew." Hermione said matter-of-factly and started walking back uphill with Luna who had hastily grabbed the two jars of flickering blue lights before walking off. I was about to walk up when I felt a wet hand grip my wrist. A little startled I turned around to see Anya, studying me carefully. She opened her mouth but no words came out and I arched an eyebrow.

"Uh…can I help you?" I asked and she shut her mouth for a moment, furrowing her eyebrows. She let me go then and closed my cloak around her tighter.

"Thank you." Was all she said before rushing off ahead of me. I stood there in confusion, staring after her and looking down at the dark spot on my sleeve where her wet hand once was.

As I walked slowly towards the castle I found myself disturbed at the way she affected me. There was something about her that pulled me to her. I couldn't really explain it. Of all the people in this school, I found myself wondering about her, unable to really leave the topic of her alone. Her silver eyes, her red lips, they drew me to her in intrigue and curiosity. She was like a distraction from the numb, meaningless nothing that I felt my world starting to become.

****************************88888

Luna.

That stupid girl.

That idiot.

How could she have been sorted in Ravenclaw with a pile of shit and fantasy for brains?

God, she had me terrified for her life.

"Saddlebrook." I said and the portrait swung open. I dragged myself inside, Harry's cloak already soaked through from being on top of my wet clothes. I tried not to catch anyone's eyes as I walked through the Common Room, my head hung low and my shoulders hunched over. And I thought I was successful until I got to the girl dormitory where pug-face Pansy Parkinson cornered me.

"Messing around with Gryffindors are we? I doubt Draco would be pleased." She taunted and I ignored her, peeling off Harry's cloak along with my wet robes. She didn't enjoy being ignored though because she immediately shoved me, causing me to stumble a bit. I froze and had my hand on my wand which was tucked in my skirt and slowly turned to look at her.

"Don't. Touch. Me." I growled slowly, enunciating every word as I glared at her, standing straight up in only my soaked t-shirt and skirt. I saw the look of fear flicker across her eyes, but she hid her fear well, sneering at me and crossing her arms above her chest. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that we were gathering a crowd. This seemed to feed Pansy's insanity even more.

"Or what? You come to this school, no background, no friends, no real explanation. And all of a sudden, you're spending weekends with _my_ Draco?"

_It's not like I wanted to._

"He's yours. I have no interest in him. He's all yours." I said carefully. I didn't want to get into a fight. Not now. I was exhausted. Pansy wasn't satisfied though. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at my face, a smirk gracing her features as she spoke to me.

"Don't placate me. You don't know who you're dealing with. Now, explain why you spent a nice little weekend at the Malfoy's." She said, her wand staying at my face.

"We're family friends. That's all." I said, turning to the side to grab clothes from under my bed—

"Maliendus!" I felt myself being thrown against my bedpost and I saw stars as my face was slammed against one of the poles.

_She did not. She did not just. _

Slowly, I stood back up, my left hand touching my busted lip while my other was still tightly clutched onto my wand behind my back. Pansy had a grin on her face, her wand up again, ready to hex once more.

"That's not an explanation. I know you're lying. Now don't make me bust more of that little face of yours and tell me the truth." She said menacingly, but I wasn't afraid. In fact, I was furious. I looked at her coldly, ready to give her just one more chance.

"You will apologize for what you just did. Or else." I said quietly and Pansy's grin broke out into a sneer. God this girl looked like a pug.

"Or else _what?_"

"Or else I will _ruin_ you." I stated calmly and Pansy didn't look amused. Another flicker of fear.

"Stupe—"

"Sectum Sempra!!!" I shouted as my wand whipped out and cursed her. The flash of purple lights were nothing in comparison to her screams.

I smiled at the sound of her screams.

"Oh my GOD! PANSY! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER?!" The girl I recognized as Milicent Bulstrode screamed, running out of the girls dormitory followed by several others. I took my time walking up to the screaming, writhing, bleeding girl on the floor. She had her hands over her bleeding face and she was losing blood fast throughout her entire body. The cuts were deep and they were big. I could even see parts of her rib bones through the cuts and I was satisfied with my work. I knew I should have been disgusted, horrified at what I had just done but—

"Bloody Merlin! What the bloody hell did you do?! Milicent notify Madame Pomfrey immediately!" I heard Draco shout from behind me and I didn't bother turning around, suddenly feeling frightened as I looked at the bloody mess before me. Draco sprinted to Pansy's side, muttering the few healings spells he knew and bandaging her up quickly and conjuring a stretcher.

"Help me put her on this." Draco commanded and for a second, I considered just walking away. But I conceded and carefully lifted her from under her arms while Draco picked her up from under her knees. She had gone unconscious from the loss of blood.

"Wingardium Leviosa." He swished and flicked his wand and the stretcher floated in front of us. I turned to go to my bed when I felt his hand on my wrist, his steely blue eyes glaring into mine.

"I know you did this. You're coming with me." He said and I consigned myself to this, following him quietly, looking at the unconscious Pansy in front of us, the small trace of a smile threatening to come out once more. Did this mean I was a bad person?

"_Anya."_

"_Yes Papa?"_

"_You are a cruel girl. I see it in your eyes."_

"_He was asking for it! He—"_

"_I don't know if it is my fault you are this way, but you cannot…you must, you must be good. You must."_

"Oh Merlins! Hurry get her to the bed! What in the name of Merlin's beard happened?! Somebody alert the Headmistress!" Madame Pomfrey commanded and Draco gave me a look that clearly said 'stay here' before running out of the Hospital Wing. I stood there quietly, watching Madame Pomfrey undress Pansy's wounds and pour a light blue liquid over her body, a green steam being emitted into the air upon contact with the skin. I looked at the job I had done on Pansy. Though Sectum Sempra had really been meant for cutting limbs off, that's not what I had wanted and it showed in the damage on her body. The cuts were all completely vertical and straight, every single one about five inches long down her body. They were organized and they were exact—I was proud.

"What are you doing here?" Madame Pomfrey accosted me as she finished pouring the blue liquid over Pansy's body. I looked away from Pansy and met Madame Pomfrey's eyes, a small smile threatening to show itself.

"I did this to her." I stated simply and I watched as Madame Pomfrey's entire body froze in shock, her hands stopped working on Pansy and she was fixated on me. Her eyes were studying me, looking for something and I wasn't sure what to give her. Did she expect remorse? Guilt? I wasn't feeling guilty in the least bit. In fact, I smiled. I couldn't hold back that smile anymore.

"You will stay here until Headmistress McGonagall arrives."

"No need Poppy, I'm right here." I heard from behind me and I slowly turned around, the smile still on my face as I turned to look at a very unhappy McGonagall with an even unhappier Draco by her side.

"Please continue treating our student Miss Parkinson here. Miss Alexandrova, you come with me. Mister Malfoy, please return to the Slytherin dorms and calm down the students." She stated right before pursing her lips again. I obediently followed her, avoiding Draco's gaze as I passed him.

***********8

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As we walked into McGonagall's office I kept my head low, afraid to look up at the walls upon which the portraits of former Headmasters and Headmistresses hung. They whispered amongst themselves and when McGonagall took a seat, she waved her hand to the seat across from her desk to me. I quietly sat down, afraid to look up. Somewhere on this wall, my father's portrait hung.

"Look at me." She demanded and slowly I brought my head up, my heart hammering as I saw Severus Snape's portrait from the corner of my eye.

_Papa…_

"Where did you learn that spell? Did your father teach it—"

"No. I learned it on my own through his library. He would never teach me such a thing." I stated firmly, crushing any implications to tarnish my father's already spat on reputation. McGonagall looked at me quietly for a few moments, her eyes holding a certain sort of dilemma as she looked at me.

"So you knew what it was going to do then?" She asked and I nodded. She sighed.

"Why would you curse your fellow housemate? This is unacceptable."

"She hexed me first. She used the Maliendus curse."

"I see that's why your lip is bleeding. But her curse did not warrant yours. You knew the dangers of the curse you used. You could have killed Miss Parkinson." She lectured me, her eyes searching mine again. She wanted remorse. She wanted to see some sort of regret in my eyes.

"I could have, but I refrained from doing so." I answered calmly and I knew that what I had said, was not what McGonagall had wanted to hear. I refrained from turning my head to look at my father's portrait.

"We owe your father our lives…the entire Wizarding World owes him their lives…if you had one ounce of the decency your father had.." She started but never really finished her sentence. My insides froze as she compared me to my father. A subtle numbness settled inside of my stomach and began to spread throughout every fiber of my body. I stood up slowly and turned around, looking right at the portrait of my father. He looked back at me with disinterest.

"What are you staring at you stupid girl?" He snapped at me and though it did cut me inside, I smiled, turning back to McGonagall.

"My father seems to be unfamiliar with who I am. I am sorry for breaking the rules of this school. But I am not sorry for what I did to Parkinson." I stated calmly and McGonagall shook her head, crossing her arms as she stared at me. She didn't know what to do with me. I could see it in her eyes.

"I should have you suspended. I should have you expelled. If you had done this outside of the school you would be dealing with the Ministry itself."

_But we all know what a joke they are now._ Was her unfinished sentence.

"Two months of detention. And you will be stripped of your Hogsmeade privileges for the rest of the year. Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson will be notified of what you have done."

"They're in Azkaban." I said, another smile gracing my lips. McGonagall pursed hers.

"Pansy Parkinson herself will be able to press charges against you in the future if she wishes. You will report to me personally every night at 9PM to see what you will be doing."

"Yes Professor."

"Dismissed. Get back to your dorms before I change my mind." And without another word I left, one last look at Papa's portrait before I exited the office, taking my sweet ole' time going down the stairs and back to the Slytherin corridors. As I entered the portrait hole I saw that the entire common room was empty by now and the only person who sat in front of the fire was the last person I wanted to see.

"What's your punishment?" He asked, not bothering to look at me. I walked past him, about to go up the stairs to the girls dormitories when I paused, looking back at him. The fire light reflected off of his platinum blond hair, lighting it up to a beautiful orange-red. I hated it.

"Two months detention. No more Hogsmeade. And whatever charges Pansy Parkinson wants to press against me."

"I guess your visits with George Weasley will be cut then." He said and I stiffened, staring at the back of his head in surprise.

"How did you—"

"A letter came for you. It's from him." He lifted up his hand, waving an envelope and I rushed over, snatching it from him and shooting him a glare he wasn't looking to see.

"And you took the liberty of reading it I see." I snapped at him, taking a seat on the far side of the couch as I opened up the letter.

_**Dear Anya,**_

_**Yeesh, a weekend at the Malfoys huh? What did you do to deserve that? Kill a few children?**_

_**Well I'm sorry to hear that I won't be graced with your beautiful mug this weekend. But hey, there's a Hogsmeade trip soon isn't there? I hope to see you then. And the Gryffindor v. Hufflepuff match is coming up as well, so there's no getting rid of me is there?**_

_**I miss you, even if you have the grace of a two year old. Maybe I'll sneak you out again and have another sleepover at my place.**_

_**Take care,**_

_**George Weasley**_

"Sleeping with George Weasley are you?" He asked in a laid back drawl and I glared at him, folding the letter back into my pocket.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. It would be none of your damn business either way." I spat at him, feeling somewhat violated at the thought of Draco Malfoy reading my mail. He turned to me then, a look of curiosity in his eyes.

_Oh dear._

And the firelight lit his face up, giving his skin a warm glow, making his blue eye sparkle and his features seem that much softer. His blond hair was slightly messy from tonight's events and his lips were curved into a subtle smirk. His shirt was undone a couple of buttons and the soft light illuminated the curves of the muscles on his chest.

_I ran my hands all over his body, his abs, his chest…the muscles that looked like they were sculpted by Michaelangelo himself. His body, it was so beautiful, so wonderful…so goddamn hot. As my fingers raked over his smooth, taught skin and I felt him move against me, brushing against the sensitive spots and sending thrills of lightning throughout me._

"_Oh God…Draco…yes…"_

I stood up abruptly, knocking over the night stand next to me and earning an arched eyebrow from Draco as he watched me even more curiously. My breath had turned ragged as I looked at him and so I immediately started walking away, making my way to the stairs when I heard him stand up from the couch as well.

"What's wrong with you? What were you bloody thinking cursing Pansy like that—"

"She hit me with a spell first." I answered quickly, now running up the stairs to avoid anymore contact with him.

_George Weasley._

I was then overrun by guilt. Technically I hadn't cheated on George. Technically, we weren't even dating…but still.

_Whore._

No…no I wasn't.

I peeled off my clothes, noticing that everybody was quietly slumbering in their beds. My clothes had dried by now after all of tonight's events. I methodically changed into my pajamas, the image of Draco burning itself into my mind.

"_Anya."_

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	11. Just a Bloody Kiss

For those of you who commented, thank you so much.

TT012: I'm really happy you like the way it's developing, I'm trying my best to not let the main storyline get away from me like I do with all of my stories.

Kaikuduo: they probably won't admit it for a very long time. If they admitted it so quickly, then there would be no drama and hence no story! Hehehe.

Note: I know that sometimes when I upload my chapters that sometimes there are no dividers and that it gets confusing because there isn't even a break between changing points of views. I try to catch this mistake as soon as I notice them, but most of the time you guys read the chapter before I can fix it. So if you ever think I missed a divider, please feel free to notify me. I don't want you guys being confused after all

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_**Dear George,**_

_**I'm sorry, but I won't be able to see you during Hogsmeade trips anymore. Professor McGonagall has banned me from them for the rest of the school year. But I'm sure that by the time you receive this letter it'll be the day of the Quidditch match, so I will be seeing you then.**_

_**I look forward to seeing you as well! **_

_**Sincerely,**_

_**Anya**_

_**P.S. You should bring some chocolate from Honeydukes since I'm banned…I promise to share.**_

I smiled at her letter, pocketing it as I put my old Gryffindor robes on to show my support. Lucky enough for her I had already amassed a good amount of chocolate from just being here. I grabbed handfuls of chocolate frogs and stuffed them into my pockets, walking downstairs of my shop and flashing a smile at Cali.

"Keep the store in one piece until I get back alright?" I joked with my newly hired employee. She grinned at me, waving as she bid me goodbye.

"I'll try my best. Have fun on your _date_." She called out and my grin grew even bigger. I was looking forward to seeing Anya again. It was one of the few things I looked forward to as of recent. I walked quickly to the nearest fireplace and threw a handful of floo powder into it.

"McGonagall's office."

"Oh George Weasley, you're here. It is good to see you again. Good that you're on time, the fireplace will close in two minutes. Now come on, you have somebody waiting for you." She said curtly and I smiled, at least she had never changed. But as we walked down the familiar corridors of Hogwarts, I caught her glancing at me from the corner of her eyes several times. And each time, I saw a certain light followed by sadness wash over her face. My heart started to fall—

"George!" I heard her voice and I forgot all about McGonagall, who immediately disappeared behind me. I took my time waltzing up to her, giving her a kiss on the cheek as I felt her arms wrap around me.

"Hello Anya. You look fantastic today." I said and I meant it. Her hair was neatly tied back into a ponytail, the waves of her hair falling nicely behind her back. Her lips, they were as red as ever and her eyelashes batted at me like butterfly wings. She leaned up and gently kissed me on the lips, sending tingles down my spine. I took her hand quickly pulled her along, bringing her to the Quidditch field stands in a hurry. As I pulled her to the Gryffindor stands, my excitement started to falter.

_They stared at me. Stared at me as if they knew me. Then they stared at me in disappointment._

There were familiar faces that turned to me and they looked at me in surprise. For a moment I saw a sort of excitement in their eyes, and then a split-second afterwards I saw the dawning of disappointment in their eyes. My insides, they started to go numb and I felt myself shrinking back. My hand let go of Anya's and I felt her get lost in the crowd. As for me, I felt like I wasn't in my own body anymore. I was watching everybody walk past me, everybody push and shove to get to their seats.

I felt lost.

"_I'm Forge."_

"_I'm Gred."_

"_And if you need a hand to get that git back—"_

"—_we got four. And if you've ever been pranked—"_

"—_it was probably us. Right Gred?"_

"_Absolutely Forge."_

"George? George?" Her voice called out to me and I realized that she had made her way back to me, her soft little hands cradling the sides of my face. She looked at me with concern, her cute lips pouting in worry.

"We don't have to be here. I don't really give a shit about Quidditch, we could—"

"No, come on, let's sit with Hermione." I said decisively, again taking her hand and pulling her over to the bushy haired girl who seemed shocked to see me.

"George! What are you doing here?" She asked with a big smile on her face and I sat down next to her with Anya on the other side of me. Hermione gave a quick glance at Anya but didn't say anything to her, choosing to pretend to ignore her. Interesting. Hermione was always polite.

"My dear ole' Anya here invited me to the Quidditch match today. Didn't you Anya?" I asked, pushing her to acknowledge Hermione. Her normally warm gaze for me turned cold as she regarded Hermione, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes I did."

"I'm surprised McGonagall even _let_ you come to the Quidditch match Anya." Hermione said, a little bit of a sting in her voice and I blinked in surprise. Anya got this…almost cruel smile on her face when she turned to look at Hermione.

"Surprise surprise then." Was all she said…but I was still alarmed by that…that smile she had on her face. There was nothing happy or good about that smile…it was a dark smile, a cruel one, and for a moment I was truly startled by this. When she turned to look up at me, that smile disappeared and was replaced by the smile I was familiar with.

"Why wouldn't McGonagall let you come to a Quidditch match Anya?" I asked and her smile faltered for a moment.

"I'll tell you later. Oh look! Here they come!" She exclaimed and pointed, distracting me for the moment. I pumped my fists and shouted in support for the Gryffindors as they came flying out, Harry's firebolt speeding by faster than the rest of them. It was going to be a good game.

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I knew that look, I recognized that look in his eyes even if he couldn't identify what it was. It was look of utter anguish; of absolute hopelessness and helplessness all wrapped up into one. I had seen that look staring back at me in the mirror several times before. I paid no attention to the actual Quidditch game…it was a given that with Harry as seeker that Gryffindor would win.

"And Harry Potter catches the snitch! What a record! Gryffindor wins!" I heard Luna's voice shouting over the crowd and I felt everyone around me stand up and throw their arms up in victory. George grabbed my hand and threw it up into the air with his and I tried to press a smile, watching his temporarily distracted face in happiness. He leaned down and laid a kiss on my cheek, smiling, high from the excitement of the crowd.

"Come on, I'll show you another secret." He whispered to me, pulling me along through the crowd of students before the rest of the students started leaving. He tugged me and tugged me, leading me through the busy hallways and corridors of Hogwarts until we came to a dead end. Here on the wall was a picture of a bowl of fruit.

"George, are we lost or—"

"No no, wait, look here." He said, reaching out and running his fingers over the pear. Was he…was he _tickling_ the pear? The pear giggled and the next thing I knew, the portrait swung open, revealing a giant kitchen with House Elves, running all around. This was the kitchens. I looked to George and he had a faint smile on his face.

"Come on. Let's get something to eat." He took my hand and when we entered the bustling kitchens I couldn't help but stare at the amount of House Elves that ran around. The smell in the air began to make me salivate and I felt my stomach grumble.

"See? You're hungry too. Oi, one of you come here!" He shouted and one of the ugly little brutes came over immediately, wringing his spindly little hands as his giant tennis ball eyes looked up at George.

"Yes mister? How can Argie help you?" Asked the little thing and I almost flinched at the grotesqueness of this stupid creature. George grinned, not noticing the look of disgust on my face.

"Hmm..what haven't I had in a while…I want some Merlin Pastries, Goblin Trotters, and…Anya? What would you like?" He asked, turning to me and I watched the excitement grow in the eyes of the elf as he received his orders.

"Um..I'll just…strawberry shortcake would be nice." I said and the look of utter confusion on the elf's face made my insides drop.

"Strawberry shortcake…? Argie has never heard of such—"

"Chocolate éclairs then. Please." I interrupted.

"Oh yes! Argie is good at those. Will be just five minutes!"

George winked at me and pulled up a couple of chairs for us to sit in. As I sat next to him he comically stretched his arms, wrapping one around me innocently and looked up at the ceiling.

"Strawberry shortcake? Must be some gruesome American food.."

"Oh shut up, it is not gruesome, in fact it is delicious."

"Bet it taste like rotted jam—"

"Does not!"

"And moldy bread—"

"Ew!"

"And.."

*********************************************8888

"Harry that was such a fantastic catch! Hufflepuff had no idea what was coming!" Ron chortled endlessly and I could only blush in acknowledgment. I was feeling the rush of the game in my blood ever still as the three of us walked down the corridors.

"You did pretty awesome yourself Ron. You block 9 out of 10 goals!" I responded, complimenting him in return. I realized this with Ron, complimenting him was the best way to keep conversation to continue with minimal effort. Hermione's face was flushed as well as she held his hand.

"You both did brilliantly. Now why are we going this way?" She asked, though putting up no resistance.

"Because I would kill a giant for some Nutter Puffs." Ron said, confident with the quidditch victory.

"Don't you ever think with your head rather than your stomach ever?" I asked and Ron gave me a smug look, raising an eyebrow.

"Well you know they say men think with two parts of their bodies, their stomach and their—"

"Ron!" Hermione hand lightly punched him on the arm to stop him from finishing that sentence and I could only roll my eyes. Bloody hell, seriously? Even Ron had managed to get laid before me. By the smartest witch of Hogwarts nonetheless.

_Jealous of Ron are you? Why? Thought you were better than him and so you'd get laid first?_

_**No that's not—**_

_Oh, but it is. Your ego is finally coming out. You're just like your father—_

_**No!**_

I shook myself out of my own head and continued walking. The awkwardness of that moment for me went completely unnoticed as they continued walking together.

"Wait." I said, holding fast onto Ron's shoulder and stopping him.

"What is it Harry?" Hermione asked, furrowing her brows at me.

"Do you hear that? It's coming from the kitchens…" I said and the three of us went still, straining to hear the sounds from the portrait of the fruit bowl.

"I hear…laughter? Who's in the kitchens? Maybe we should come back later, we're not supposed to be here anyway." Hermione offered and I arched an eyebrow at her, continuing to walk towards the pear.

"Really Hermione? I think we've faced too much to be afraid of breaking a few school rules…again." I teased her and she grinned, obviously in agreement.

"Come on, you're Head Girl, we'll give them a little scare and send them off on their way." Ron said, a mischievous grin on his face. I agreed.

"You boys, you will never grow up."

"And you love us for it Hermione." Ron joked back at her and approached the pear, giving it a tickle and slowly letting it open.

"—Rotten eggs and—"

"—George?" I heard Hermione shout and as I peered in, sure enough, there was George, looking just as bewildered as we did. He gave us a surprised smile as we climbed through the hole and I watched as Ron looked tentatively from him to…Anya? She barely glanced up at us, choosing to stare at the ground and focus on the éclair she was so busily munching on.

"Didn't expect to see you here George." Ron said, glancing slightly at Anya who had chosen to ignore the three of us. But Hermione of course, polite to the bitter end, acknowledged Anya with a smile.

"Well you know, Anya invited me to the Quidditch game and so I invited her for a bite to eat. You guys have met before right?" He asked and my curiosity was now piqued at how this would all turn out. She still didn't look up to acknowledge us.

"Yes, we have." Was her curt reply and I watched as George put his arm around her, raising an eyebrow at her rudeness.

"I sense some hostility from you little lady. And just seconds ago you were all smiles and mouthfuls of pastry!" He teased her and I witnessed a rare sight. She genuinely smiled at him, blushing lightly as she gave him a small kiss on the cheek.

"Took a bite of funky pastry is all." She said and though I was sure he knew she was lying, he left it alone, holding out a plate full of pastries to us.

"Come on, you came here for something to eat yeah? Let's have a nice chat like the good ole days." Ron immediately grabbed a handful and started to dig in as Hermione delicately picked one up and began to chew. I took a couple, thoughtfully chewing on them as I watched the interaction between George and Anya.

"So..you guys are like dating right..? Boyfriend and girlfriend?" Ron asked, his mouth full of pastry. Anya perked up at this, glancing at George before she looked at Ron. George raised an eyebrow, a small grin appearing on his face as he turned to face Anya.

"I don't know if we've gotten that far yet.. I mean—"

"But you guys have slept together how can you not be boyfriend and girlfriend?" Hermione interrupted and immediately I knew she had said the wrong thing. Anya narrowed her eyes and Hermione flushed in embarrassment.

"I-I didn't mean—"

"Who are you to assume? And second, who are you to judge what we should do outside and inside a relationship? If anything I should be judging you, I heard you ran around with all of the Triwizard Champions." Anya calmly retorted back at her and I could see the surprise in such a cruel response in Hermione's eyes. But that's not what I was worried about, what I was worried about was Ron—

"Hey, you watch what you say. Hermione here is the purest witch you'll ever know. You don't know her like we do." Ron said, defending Hermione, even emphasizing it by putting his body a little more forward than hers, as if to shield her from Anya. I looked to George and we shared a look of 'uh oh' before it even began. We knew how women were—

"Indeed I don't." She said and stood up, dusting off her skirt and wrapping a few éclairs in a napkin to stuff in her robe pocket. George grabbed her hand and pulled her to look at him before she left, the look of concern on his face searching hers.

"Anya, calm down, it's just a little misunderstanding. Stay and let's have a good time."

"George she's disliked us from the beginning for no good reason. You can do better than her anyway." Ron said, the spite not exactly hidden in his voice. George snapped towards him, giving him the glare of the century as he looked at him.

"Ronniekins you're being mighty rude."

"Don't call me that—"

"Ickle—"

"Stop it—"

"Ickle wickle—"

"Don't—"

"Ickie Ronnie—"

"Bloody hell quit it Fred!"

Oh. No.

The gasp escaped Hermione's lips and I felt the room freeze around me, despite the bustling activity of the elves in the kitchen. I saw Ron pale at his mistake and I watched all the blood drain from George's face. He stood up slowly and let Anya's hand go.

"I'm feeling a bit tired. Anya, I will see you another time."

"George look I'm so sorry I—"

"Goodnight."

We watched him walk out in stunned silence and I knew that a grave mistake had just been made. Anya turned to Ron, her face red and her wand pointed at him menacingly.

"How could you? How _could_ you?" She nearly screamed and Hermione immediately stood up, her hand on her wand as she assessed the situation.

"As Head Girl I demand that you put down your wand." She said firmly, but I could tell Anya wasn't having any of it. She didn't flinch or look away from Ron who look mortified himself without the help of Anya.

"Of all people…of all the people who could have…when he comes here he has to deal with everybody staring at him, looking at him as if they're waiting for something. They look at him in excitement as if he were Fred, and the moment they remember, the light in their eyes dies and they look at him with pity. If there was anybody he counted on it was his family, it was you. But even you…even _you_ see Fred when all there is is George!" And with that she sprinted out, leaving us stunned and Ron completely bewildered.

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"George?"

He kept walking away at that alarming pace and as I followed him, I knew he was going to go to the one-eyed witch.

"George! Please!" I called after him, breaking into a run to catch up to him. He tapped his wand on the witch's hump.

"Wait! George!" I cried breathlessly, catching onto his wrist at the very last moment. He turned to me, a look of anger, shock and confusion on his face while he instinctively wrenched his wrist out of my grasp.

"Just..get away from me." He murmured, his words almost slurred together in anger. I moved to block his path from the witch statue and succeeded, not willing to budge as he looked at me in even more anger.

"George, will you just wait, please. Talk to me—"

"Just leave me alone!"

"George—"

"Bloody—you could _never_ understand!" He actually _screamed _at me. His hands raising up in frustration and for a moment I was pretty sure he was going to hit me. But I wasn't afraid of that, I wanted...I didn't know what I wanted, but the look in his eyes terrified me. I had never seen this look of utter hopeless frustration and rage in this sweet boy—it wasn't George. It wasn't him at all. I didn't want him to leave by himself in a state like this, I was scared for him.

"Please…George…what wouldn't I understand? If you're going to leave, let me come with you." I went out on a limb then, gently and slowly bringing my hands to his face, gently cupping it as my thumbs smoothly rubbed against his skin. I saw his shoulders slightly relax then and his eyes lower themselves to a close. He cupped my hand with his and pushed his face against it, letting out a deep breath as he relaxed.

"Everyone is thinking it. Everybody thinks the same _bloody_ thing." He muttered, shaking his head against my hand.

"Thinking what?"

"Everyone who knew Fred…before…before he passed. When they see me, their eyes light up and within that same moment, they become disappointed. They think they see Fred, and then they remember—it's just George. I can't stand that look. I can't stand it at all. They're always expecting him, delighted that maybe the War that had happened, didn't happen at all…I can't stand those looks anymore. I just can't."

"I'm sorry George…I'm sorry…"

"No..it's not…don't be sorry. I don't want that. It's just…I knew what I was in for when I accepted your invitation to quidditch. But I just…I can't do this anymore. I need to leave..I need to get away….I can't stay here any longer…I can't…" And with that, he pushed me aside and disappeared behind the witch statue. For a second I considered following him, but I knew for at least now, I could do absolutely nothing for him.

At the sound of footsteps I froze, aware of how odd it must have looked for me to be standing in front of a statue with my hands raised, holding thin air and a look of confusion and astonishment on my face. As the footsteps slowed I became nervous, somebody was actually trying to approach me is what it meant.

"He went back to his store already then."

Harry Potter.

That stupid boy just loved showing up at times he wasn't needed.

I turned to leave but with a couple of steps, the boy wonder had blocked my way. I raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he could possibly want, but the look of nervousness on his face somewhat disarmed me.

"I just wanted to know…is he alright?"

"He's just—"

_There's no point in lying._

"No, he's not."

"Let me get Ron and Hermione, we can apologize."

"Harry—" I grabbed his hand before he could even turn around and held him tightly, not allowing him to move an inch.

"No, Harry…he, he wants to be left alone." I pleaded and he stopped, looking at me with this…indescribable expression on his face. I loosened my grip on him and eventually let go. He kept watching me, narrowing his eyes and studying me as if something were so completely fascinating happening. He didn't seem suspicious, he didn't seem annoyed…but he seemed curious.

"You guys seem very close." He stated quietly and I wasn't sure about what to do except give him an annoyed look. I turned away and started walking, checking my pocket and feeling the familiar boxed lump and taking it out while I smacked it against my palm.

"Where are you going?"

"Leave me alone Pothead."

"How very original, I think Malfoy came up with that when he was ten." He called after me and instinctively I knew, that he wanted to pursue a conversation.

"Whatever." I just wanted this to be done with. I just wanted to have a nice, long…smoke. The feeling of the back of my throat burning and the smell of tobacco embers…the deep breaths of poison that felt like fresh air and the long exhalations of the smoky goodness that was—

"I asked you, where are you going?"

"And I said, leave me alone Pothead." I said, now walking briskly out the doors of the Hogwarts castle and towards the lake. I didn't even have to turn around to know that Harry was following me. It didn't matter though, the moment I felt the cool breeze of the night air I pulled a cigarette out and began to light it.

When I sat at the edge of the lake, Potter sat next to me, and I chose to ignore it, inhaling the smoke deeply before slowly exhaling it all back out.

"I wouldn't have taken you as a smoker."

"Potter, seriously, what do you want?"

"Hah…" He chuckled dryly, his hands digging into the grass and ripping up a few blades before he proceeded to drop them back onto the ground. He stared at the lake, tossing a few more blades onto the water and I watched them float across the surface. He did this methodically, as if it were some ingrained part of him which worked like clockwork. It distracted me and it seemed to distract him.

"I have so many questions for you. I just…Sometimes I believe you're good, the way you saved Luna. Then, you turn right around and hex Pansy Parkinson into oblivion and—"

"—I heard a certain Boy Wonder did the same exact thing to a Draco Malfoy." I interrupted and Harry's face flushed and his next grip on the grass pulled up a bit of dirt along with it.

"I heard you knew exactly what you were doing. You didn't exactly chop off her limbs, but you knew what that curse was going to do to her. I had no clue what it was going to do."

"And so now I'm bad?" I asked, somewhat amused by this thought process. I flicked the butt of my cigarette into the lake and I caught Harry's look of disgust at that. I grinned at this and merely pulled another stick out, lighting it. He seemed even more appalled at my chain smoking though.

"No—George, I mean…he's a good person and he's…well you guys are…well you say you aren't but…he obviously sees something in you I mean. Him and Luna…they both like you…and..they're good people. I just—"

"—people make mistakes. Just because good people are friends with me doesn't make me good, and just because bad people are friends with someone else doesn't make that person bad."

"Don't lecture me..look, I'm just saying…I don't understand you. I know you care for some people..you care about George…you care about Luna. But then you turn around and you look at me, you look at Ron and Hermione and all I see is this cold hatred…disdain and I don't understand. Why do you hate me so much? What is it that—"

"Why do I like George and Luna but not you?"

"It's not just that, I just don't know what I've done to offend you. I want to like you—"

"Goddamn it you stupid boy. So what if you don't like me? So what if I don't like you? What…what difference does it make in the least bit?"

"Because—no, I guess it doesn't make a difference."

The tone of his voice…it made my insides turn and I looked up sharply at him. He was still ripping up the grass. That boy didn't even look up at me, it were as if his eyes had been glued to the ground in front of him.

*****************************************888

"Because—" _Because I like you._

"Because—no, I guess it doesn't make a difference." I said, and with those words I felt my insides drop and my chest deflate. It was almost funny how insignificant I was to her, and yet how much of my thoughts _she_ preoccupied. When she reached for her third cigarette I grabbed the box from her hands and shoved it into my pockets.

"What are you doing?" She yelped and made a grab for her cigarettes but I twisted around, keeping them secure in my pockets and preventing her from getting to them.

"You irritating, stupid, fucking, boy! Just leave me alone, just leave me alone and give me back my cigarettes!"

"No." I said smugly and for some reason, I found a certain kind of joy from doing this. The look of torment on her face told me that I had gotten her attention in some weird way. She pulled her wand out and started flicking it in a very familiar manner.

"Accio—"

"Nope." I snatched the wand out of her hand and pocketed that with the cigarettes and I watched as the look of horrific frustration crossed her face.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" She lunged at me and her bodily force completely knocked the wind out of me. She reached for my pockets but I tossed her off, the warmth of her body completely catching me off guard.

"You're crazy!" I shouted at her and she merely lunged at me again, but this time, her entire body pressed itself against me as her hands held my shoulders down. Her hair was messed up and there were bits of grass in it, her eyes were narrowed and her teeth were bared in anger.

"You have a deathwish Potter, give my stuff back you irritating—"

I was never bold with women. I was absolutely not a lady's man in _any_, single, sense of the word. My first kiss with Cho was shortly followed by tears and her unceremonious dismissal of me. And my first kiss with Ginny was shortly followed by my own breakup with her. And then after we got together, I have another unceremonious breakup with her. If anything, I was an utter failure with women.

But just like that time when I had found myself unable to stop myself from kissing Ginny, finding myself completely absorbed in the desire to kiss her—I found myself in that situation with Anya.

I had interrupted her yelling with a kiss, completely captured her lips with a simple raise of my upper torso and a tilt of my head.

And within the next second I felt two sharp pumps on my shoulders as she violently pushed herself off of me. She had somehow managed to throw herself off of me, having herself land in a heap at my feet. She stared at me with wide eyes and her hand shakily pointed at me.

"I can't believe you..I can't believe…AAARGH!"

"What are you—" She had tackled me once more and this time her hands gripped my shirt around the collar, yanking it tightly as she lifted me up to her face.

"What am I doing? I'm about to either choke you to death, or slam your skull into a rock! What the hell was going through your head when you thought to kiss me?" She growled into my face all the while shaking me with her grip on my shirt. I found myself breathless and in shock, unable to accepted what I had just done and what was going on.

"I-I don't know, I just—I don't know why! I just—I just—"

"Spit it out Potter! Tell me what the fuck was going through your head when you did that?"

I was bewildered by her reaction. My mouth hung open and my lips moved while no sound came forth. Of all reactions, I had never expected this from a girl. She didn't gasp and run away, she didn't blush and stutter, she didn't—she was just as confused and angry as if I had just punched her in the jaw.

"I-I-I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking…I just—"

"You just _what_?"

"I just wanted to! Bloody hell it was just a kiss I'm sorry!" I was exasperated by her questioning and I was frustrated with the truth that I was unwilling to say. When she looked at me with those silver eyes, I knew my brain had gone out the window. Even though the anger was clear in her face, her rose red lips were parted in that same alluring way when she spoke.

_I did it because I like you._

But what would she understand about that? What the hell did I understand about that? That woman was an utter monster to me, and yet I liked her. I was pretty damn sure she hated me, and I still bloody liked her. She couldn't possibly understand—

She was kissing _me_.

In my stunned silence during which I retreated into my own thoughts, she had taken full advantage and kissed me, cupping my face in her hands as her soft lips pressed against mine.

_This can't be happening._

And then I felt it, her tongue flickering across my bottom lip and I was more than eager to comply. My eyes closed slowly while I parted my lips and the moment I tasted her tongue I felt my body jolt and I kissed her back just as hungrily. I slipped my tongue into her mouth and explored it, the nooks, the little shapes of her that tasted of her so damn sweetly.

And then, all of a sudden, it all stopped.

When I felt her completely off of me. I opened my eyes and sat up quickly. When I turned to see what had happened I saw her grinning at me…this smug..smug…look on her face as she watched me.

"Why are you so flustered Potter? Bloody hell, it was just a kiss."


	12. Sick

"Your detention for tonight will be to clean the Great Hall of the remnants of tonight's…food fight. Since this is a detention, you will not be using magic. You may leave when done."

"Yes Headmistress."

"Report to my office when you are done."

"Yes Headmistress."

"Until then." And with that curt response, the Headmistress turned around and left, leaving me with _seven_ large bins of water and an entire box of rags—oh look, and a broom.

_Well, staring at it won't clean it up any._

I grabbed the broom and with a small smile I started to sweep slowly, getting the chunks of chicken, remnant bones and random globs of food that lay on the _tables_. There was no point in starting on the floor, the food from the tables would only get onto the floor anyway. I had taken off my cloak and sweater, left in my spaghetti strap tanktop and skirt—and what a sight I was, standing on the dinner tables in a pair of heels with a broom.

"_Why on earth are you wearing…heels?" Papa asked, a look of near mortification on his face as he entered the house. I was sixteen then. I smiled and extended my leg that had been adorned in a pair of glittering red, closed, round-toed, four inch heels._

"_I like the feeling. Girls only wear them when they go out, but I feel that's cheating. They say that wearing heels for long hurts your feet, but I'm not much of a quitter. Just like makeup stays on, my heels will stay on as well." I stated proudly, but that smile fell off of my face immediately when I saw the look my father gave me. It was a mixture of disgust and confusion. He didn't understand in the least bit as to why I did what I did._

_I simply did it, because I wanted to._

"Oh the glamour of cleaning the mess of a thousand children." I sighed dramatically to myself, dipping my broom as if it were my petite tango dancer. Another strong sweep and this table was cleared of all food. I neatly hopped onto the next table, expertly avoiding the banana peel to prevent a disaster. I swept down the entire middle of the table with one long stroke and dipped my broomstick again—but this time, as if it were a microphone.

"She hides true love, en su bolsillo." I serenaded my broom, sweeping it again to get the left side of the table clear. I spun around and turned to dip it again.

"She's got a halo around her finger, around you." Another sweep and this table was cleared as well. Another hop onto the next table.

"You know that I love you boy, hot like Mexico rejoice. At this point I gotta choose." With each syllable I made a horizontal sweeping movements all down the table while taking petite little steps.

"Nothing to lose." And so I finally came to the last table of the Slytherin row and spun in circles, cleaning it in the most inefficient way possible.

When I finished I hopped off the table, pretending like I could hear the melody of the latest muggle pop song in my head.

"Don't call my name, don't call my name, Alejandro." I sang loudly, almost wincing at the sound of my voice. Unlike the myth, not all girls could sing. In fact, I was pretty average and closer to awful. But it was getting late, so I didn't give a damn.

"I'm not your babe, I'm not your babe, Fernando." And then I hopped onto the line of Ravenclaw tables, sweeping down them and making it rain food onto the floor.

"Alejandro, Alejandroo," sweep sweep sweep, "Ale—ale—jandro."

I'm not sure how many times I sung that song throughout the night, but I did it until I was completely finished with the entire Great Hall.

**************************88888888888888

"Man, the house elves must have had a miserable time cleaning up the mess we left last night."

"Actually, my ass cleaned all your shit up, and _without_ magic." I said bitterly, spearing a large chunk of potato as popping it into my mouth. Blaise raised his eyebrows at me and smirked.

"Why would you have to clean that up?"

"I have two months worth of detention."

"Oh right, for what you did to Pansy." His voice had dropped down to a low murmur and I looked at him somewhat startled. He was staring at me, not touching his food (again). His brows were furrowed and I suddenly felt uncomfortable underneath his gaze.

"Blaise, what's on your mind?" I asked cautiously. His eyes stayed on mine, holding them sternly in place and instilling a sense of discomfort within me. As decrepit he was becoming, the Slytherin inside of him still was prevalent in moments like these.

"Do you feel _any_ guilt? _Any_ remorse for what you did to her?" I turned then to the empty seat near Malfoy where Parkinson usually sat and by the Gods, I couldn't stop myself as my lips curved into a smile. I turned back to Blaise, unaware that the smile was still on my face.

"No, I see that you don't." He said and his voice took on this dark undertone that wiped the smile off of my face immediately and I was starting to feel..weird.

I think..I think I was starting to feel ashamed.

But I definitely did not feel guilty about what I did to Pansy Parkinson.

If anything, I was starting to feel guilty for _not_ feeling guilty.

"I know you used to be friends with her Blaise—" He started laughing loudly at that, earning a few looks from the other Slytherin at the table near us, but as quickly as they looked at us, they looked away. I had earned myself quite the reputation in the Slytherin house after that Pansy Parkinson incident. There were whispers of where I had come from now. Whispers that I had actually transferred here because I had done the same to another student in America. I loved these rumors.

"Friends. What a loose term that is. Our families were merely in the same pureblood ring of status. Now look at how good friends they stayed." He laughed loudly again and all I could do was stare at the boy who now looked like he was on the brink of insanity.

"You are cruel Anya. You are so cruel. I can see it in your eyes."

"_Anya, do not be cruel. Do not be cruel, do not let that into your heart." Papa said._

"_I am not cruel—"_

"_I can see it in your eyes. You must fight it. You must fight it with everything in your heart."_

"Don't say that Blaise." I said stiffly, his words ringing in my ears in my father's voice. I watched the faintest trace of a smirk grow on his face when he looked at me. He shook his head and sighed, pushing around the mashed potatoes on his plate. I watched him do this for at least five minutes straight, his fork scraping against the plate and mashing the green beans into a pile of unidentifiable mush. I continued watching him play with his food in silence, and I wondered if he noticed the sound of his scraping fork getting louder and louder. Was he doing it on purpose? It was driving me the fuck insane.

Scrape.

Scrape scrape.

Scrape scrape scrape—

"Will you stop that?" I slapped the fork out of his hand and rubbed my head, trying to be rid of the headache that was growing inside. I stopped rubbing my temples for a moment to look up at Blaise who seemed utterly confused, I merely responded with a sneer, picking up a clean fork from the other side of the table and depositing it onto his plate.

"Will you please, just, eat? Stop playing with your damn food, stop scraping your fork down your place—just put the food, into your god damn mouth." I snapped at him, stabbing a piece of pork and holding it to his mouth. He pursed his lips and glared at me, narrowing his dark eyes.

"Don't feed me, I'm not a child." He moved to smack my hand away but I gripped it, still holding the food in front of his mouth.

"Then don't act like a petulant brat not getting his way. Eat. Just eat." I commanded and I swear he sat there, staring at me for a full minute before finally, his mouth opened slightly. And slowly, I fed him, watching him chew the meat methodically, eventually swallowing and watching me.

"Are you appeased Mistress?" He asked sarcastically and I shook my head, grinning smugly.

"Nope. Not until you finish your entire plate. And if I have to, I'll force feed it to you."

"Guess you'll have to force feed me."

"With pleasure."

*******************************88888888

"Today we will be learning how to focus our Transfiguration. It takes a lot of effort to transfigure an entire object properly, but it takes much more effort to transfigure only a specific part, in a specific way. You see, for example, here, I have a rat." And she brought out a small cage which held a frumpy looking rat.

"I will be changing exactly half of this rat's coat to a smooth white. Watch. Blancus." She flicked her wand and tapped the rat and immediately exactly half of its coat, going down vertically turned into a beautiful, smooth, white coat just as she had said. The professor looked back up at us sternly and tapped her wand against the palm of her hand.

"The most important thing is your focus on what you wish to happen. The slightest bit of distraction in your mind and the spell will be imperfect. Now, thanks to Mister Longbottom so…graciously, setting half of our supply of rats free with a certain incident this morning, you will be working in partners with the person to your left. Starting with you Miss Granger and Mister Weasley. Mister Longbottom and Miss Parvati.."

You know, just last year it would been my name that either followed before Hermione's or right after Ron's, and it would've seemed like something amiss without me there—but no, Hermione and Ron already began taking out their rat, with Ron engrossed in taunting Hermione with the grossness of the thing. I had chosen to sit in the back, unwilling to talk amongst the bickering between Ron and Hermione. I sat in the very back right corner, not in the mood for class…not in the mood for school in general… I turned to the left of me to see who my partner was and my breath got caught in my throat.

_Had she been there the whole time?_

No. Wait.

The entire right side of the room was filled with Gryffindors and the entire left side was Slytherin. I would have noticed her if she had sat—

"Christ Potter, it's not exactly a Rubik's cube. I need to talk to you, so when McGonagall mentioned partner up with the person to your left, I grabbed Mister Finnigan here and moved him," she leaned back and gestured to her left where I saw a semi-confused Seamus sitting, "there."

"Mister Potter, Miss…Anya, your rat. No dilly dallying."

"Yes Professor." We responded simultaneously and immediately Anya moved her desk right next to mine. She leaned over my shoulder and opened the cage, gingerly pulling out the rat onto my desk. I looked up at her and found that my face was so close to her neck. Here, there came a sweet, sweet smell. I couldn't even describe it really…it just smelled of everything sweet and—

"George is gone."

I blinked in surprise at the suddenness of her statement and so I fumbled over my words.

"W-what?"

"I got a letter from him last night. You can read it later. Here." She quickly tucked an envelope into my pocket and completely disregarding what she had just said to me, I picked it right back out as she turned to transform the rat.

_**Dearest Anya,**_

_**I'm really sorry that I don't even have the guts to do this in person, but it really was a last minute decision, and even as I write this letter, I know it is a decision I must follow through.**_

_**I am leaving tomorrow at dawn, I won't tell you where I'm going because even I don't know. I just know I will be going far away, and that I will be gone for a long time. I'll keep you—**_

"This part of the letter is ripped off. Why?" I asked and Anya gave me an irritated look, obviously perturbed by the fact that I had completely ignored her request to not read the letter right now.

"Because that part was personal. Like I'd give that part to you. I taped the rest of it together. Now shut up." She growled at me, shoving me lightly as she started haphazardly poking the rat. I grinned somewhat stupidly and started reading again.

_**Please tell my family that I love them and if they ask why I wrote you my goodbye but not them, tell them it was because I am a coward and couldn't face breaking my own family's heart. With this letter I leave the deed to my store. Please give it to Ickle Ronniekins, I believe he'll know best who to hire to run the store while he's at school.**_

_**Tell them not to come looking for me, I promise them, I promise you, I will return, I just don't know when.**_

_**Till then sugarlips, try not to cry too many rivers over me.**_

_**Sincerely,**_

_**Forge**_

I sat there stunned at the letter, unable to quite accept what I had just read. George…George had disappeared? I looked up at where Ron and Hermione sat, trying to think of what they would think of this news. I knew this would utterly break Molly Weasley's heart.

"Why me? Why not give it to Ron?" I asked and again she shot me a glare, holding up the rat in her hand and waving it in my face.

"Look Potter, stop asking me questions. If you're not going to do the task assigned to us, at least shut the fuck up." She whispered violently at me, shaking the rat in my face the entire time and I blinked, still in shock from the letter. She turned back away from me and put the rat down, continuing to prod it on the side with her wand. I watched a fourth of it change to a smooth white, then all of it, then two thirds of it…but never quite half.

My head was ringing with George's letter and all I could do was stare at it, reading it over and over again, trying to comprehend it.

"But I have to ask him so many questions, I mean why—"

"That's why he wrote a damn letter. To avoid your stupid questions. Aha! Finally, it's perf—" She stopped speaking abruptly and I snapped to attention as she stood up quickly. She knocked her chair over and put a hand over her mouth. Her skin was so pale that it was almost a green color, her eyes were wide in confusion and I could see a look of nausea cross her face.

"Anya are you—"

"I don't feel well. I—" She covered her mouth again and I stood up immediately, steadying her with my hands on her shoulders. I regretted this slightly when Ron and Hermione turned to look at the commotion happening. Ron's look immediately turned sour at the sight of my hands steadying Anya. But I ignored it, pocketing the letter with one hand as I led Anya to the front with the other.

"Professor, Anya's really sick may—"

"Yes, I don't want her vomit coating my classroom floor. Take her quickly Mister Potter."

"Oh God—"

"Nope, come on Anya." I ushered her quickly out of the classroom and she complied. This was probably the only time she would ever comply to what I asked her to do. I pulled her into a semi run to the Hospital Wing, a place I knew by heart from my endless days occupying it.

"Wait, detour." She snapped and sprinted into the bathroom, which happened to be Moaning Myrtle's. I followed her into it but she had been so quick that I could already hear her retching in the bathroom. The sound of high-pitched giggling started and I groaned, knowing exactly what was to come.

"Ooooh! Someone's losing her lunch now! That's the only good that Myrtle's bathroom is for is it? Ehehehehehe! Serves you riiiiiiiight."

"Shut up you ugly—" Anya's snap was cut off quickly by the sounds of her retching again. I opened the stall door she was in and did a double take at the awful smell of her vomit.

"Equestus Brezius!" I shouted and immediately the air became neutral. Thank God, because it had smelled…_awful_. I knelt down beside her and pulled her hair back, which was being shakily held by her two hands. She allowed me to do this as she leaned over the toilet bowl, shaking and retching until finally…she slumped back.

I awkwardly rubbed her back with my free hand while my other held her hair and she leaned back more, taking deep breaths to calm herself. I felt awkward then, wondering what I was supposed to do then. I was never quite good at the whole comforting thing. My heart pounded as she held onto me to stand back up. She turned to me, her hands gripping onto my arms as she steadied herself.

"I hate that you're helping me. I can get to the Hospital Wing myself."

"What? And miss watching you in suffering? Not for the world." I said, keeping all sarcasm and lightness out of my voice as I pulled her out of the bathroom. I felt her stiffen at my words and when I turned to look at her, I couldn't help but smile at the look of shock on her face.

"You're not the only one who can be a prick." I said with a smile and then continued tugging her along to the Hospital Wing.

"I am not a—"

"You're the biggest one I've ever met. You even give Malfoy a run for his money." I continued taunting her and finally we were at the Hospital Wing. When we entered, Anya immediately lunged for the nearest garbage bin, beginning to retch into it as Madame Pomfrey rushed over.

"You again now, and here I thought you might've been having the decency to visit Miss Parkinson. Come come, I have a larger bin over here you can unload into. That's enough Mister Potter, I'll take it from here. What class were you both coming from?"

"Uh..Advanced Transfiguration.." I said, kind of losing focus as I watched Anya collapse onto the bed Madame Pomfrey led her to. I tilted my head, trying to look at Anya's face. It was pale, somewhat green and with beads of sweat going down her face.

"Miss Pomfrey, will she be alright?"

"Oh she'll be alright it seems. Just a little nauseous from something. Run along Potter. She'll be right as rain in no time."

***************************************888888888

"Like I told Mister Potter, you'll be right as rain in no time. Now hold still, let me give you the standard diagnosis spell." She tapped my stomach and a warm golden color started to appear and Madame Pomfrey smiled.

"Right as rain in—" it turned blue. The look on her face made _me_ panic.

"What? What is it?" I almost shouted, staring at the blue color on my stomach.

"You'll be right as rain in about 8 months it seems. Miss Alexandrova you're—"

"No."

"Now look here, you're—"

"No."

"Don't be childish, be adult about your—"

"No!" I screamed and without thinking I whacked the goblet on the stand next to me, sending it crashing and spilling all over the floor as I watched it spread.

"That was unnecessary Miss Alexandrova! Now I understand you're in a bit of a shock right now—"

"Give me the potion." I stated calmly now, gathering my thoughts as I tried to sort out my breathing. Breathe. Breathe. Exhale. And breathe.

Madame Pomfrey froze in her tracks and turned to me slowly, her wand clutched tightly in hand as she studied me. She looked me up and down, holding my eyes as if to instill some sort of intimidation…but I had none of it.

"You have time to think about it before you make a decision like that." She said slowly, cautiously, waiting for my explosion. But I refused to fall prey to emotion for the moment. I needed a clear head. I needed…

"_The power to make the right decision is in being objective. Emotion will fog up the mind. Compartmentalize your emotions and think your decisions through."_

"_Papa, but then what of romance? What of love?"_

"_If you want to end up like Romeo and Juliet, be my guest."_

I breathed in deeply, closing my eyes and leaning my head back on the pillow.

_Idiot. You fucking idiot. You didn't remember a condom. You didn't remember a contraceptive potion or spell. What the fuck is wrong with you? What are you? A stupid teenager? _

_**Fuck. You fucking, fucking, fucking, idiot.**_

_FUCK._

"I don't need time to make my decision. I've already made it. Give me the potion." I responded calmly, my eyes fixed on the blue light which still hovered above my stomach. I hated the color blue anyway. Madame Pomfrey sat on the edge of my bed, putting a hand on my shoulder as she smiled at me. The look of kindness in her eyes made me queasy. Just a few weeks ago she was screaming at me for what I had done to Pansy. Why didn't she hold that grudge as she looked at me now?

_Why aren't you judging me?_

"Darling, as you are only seventeen now, if you want to abort your child, you must notify your guardian and your partner about your decision." She said and inside I panicked again, but I forced my face to remain expressionless. I folded my hands together over my stomach and looked up at the kindly woman, feeling cold and empty when I stared into her warm eyes.

"They don't need to be—"

"Oh but they do. It is your decision to abort the baby of course, but Wizarding law states that before you do so, you must alert your guardian and your partner of your predicament. Now who's the father?"

"A centaur." I spat at her and she pursed her lips tightly. I knew I was trying her patience, but she was trying mine. I wanted to run out of there. I wanted to beat my head against the wall until my brains decorated them better than the wallpaper itself. She gave me a stern look and shook her head.

"You must tell me who the father is. It is Wizarding law. He must know before you make the decision to abort as it is legally a part of him." She said and I closed my eyes again, running the possibilities through my head. Of course I knew who it was…of course I knew who the father was, there were very few choices anyway—no that was a lie, there was only one. But no, no, I wasn't going to let this happen.

_Stupid fucking idiot. How could you? HOW COULD YOU?_

"And what if I decide to keep it?" I asked and I could almost see the breath of relief coming from her lips as she smiled at me.

"Then it's up to you to decide when you break the news—"

"I'll keep it then." I said calmly, my mind racing as I thought of all the different possibilities of what to do. No, I already knew.

"Now who's the father—"

"Nobody."

"Look—"

"No, you look. The Wizarding Law doesn't state that I have to tell_ you_ who the father is. I know that for sure. The only reason you have to know is if I abort or when the baby is actually born. Now just…just give me something for this nausea." I said, straining to keep the calm in my voice as I spoke to the woman. I wanted to scream, to pout, to throw things and break shit. Breathe.

Breathe.

"Alright Miss Alexandrova. Let me get you something."

**********************************************888888

"Yes Headmistress, you called for me?" I sat across McGonagall's desk as she scribbled something on a piece of parchment.

"Yes I did. Miss Anya has decided not to show up for detention tonight and since she's in your house—"

"I'm here Headmistress." Came a breathless Anya, stumbling through the door to the desk. I smirked at her and stood up to leave when I saw the look on her face.

It was not the same girl. I could've sworn it wasn't. She lacked the calm, cold demeanor she usually did, her skin had a green sort of pallor to it and her eyes were wide and vacant. Even her posture, she was slouching somewhat as she entered the room, standing in front of McGonagall's desk with unfocused eyes.

"You are late Miss Anya."

"I apologize."

"I will excuse you this time as you've been on time for all your other detentions. Tonight you will be washing the corridor floors as Filch has taken the day off sick. I guess I no longer require your services Mister Malfoy. You may return to your quarters. Miss Anya, the bucket and mop will be waiting for you outside.

"Yes Headmistress." Was her short reply.

My heart started to beat a little faster as I followed her out of the door and down the stairs. She started to go down the corridor opposite from the one that led to the Slytherin dormitory and for a moment I was at a standstill.

_Follow?_

I watched her then slump against the wall, putting a hand to her forehead as she slowly slid down to the ground. She had thought I already left then, I knew that she would never willingly show weakness in front of me if she could help it. I watched as she sat on the ground for a little bit and grew even more curious. I remembered her little incident during Transfiguration…was she possibly still sick?

I slowly walked to her, bending down on one knee behind her and putting a hand on her shoulder.

She didn't respond.

"Hey." I said, trying to get her attention. She didn't respond.

"Are you asleep?" I asked incredulously. I shook her shoulder and as her body responded limply I pulled her backwards and found that she was indeed asleep. I furrowed my brows and started chuckling. This girl couldn't be for real. I started shaking her again.

"Are you kidding me? Wake up you fool. You have detention." I said loudly, shaking her even more furiously and finally her eyes snapped open and she jerked up—which was a bad idea.

Her head crashed into mine with such force that I was just bloody _positive_ that her head was made out of fucking _steel_. She gasped in pain and I was already on the floor, holding my head in pain. I saw stars as I sat back up, cradling my poor cranium in my hands as I tried to get my head to steady.

"Bloody Merlin…your head…it's made of concrete…bloody…" I murmured, wincing at the pain as I stood up. _Bloody hell_ that girl had a skull. When I opened my eyes I saw that she was standing now too, and also cradling her cranium.

"Fuck Malfoy…what are you doing here?" I wanted to give her a good kick to the shins for that question. I took my hands away from my head and stood up straighter, trying to ignore the pulsating pain inside my head.

"I was helping you out. Your useless ass decided to fall asleep right here on the floor. I woke you up—" I was interrupted by her sudden drop to the ground and retching into the mop bucket. I was mortified at the way her body hunched over the bucket and as she wiped her mouth, I watched her face pale even more. She tapped the bucket with the wand and everything disappeared.

"Are you alright?" I asked, more out of curiosity than anything else and she only nodded.

"Just, need some fresh air."

"It's curfew in about an hour so I wouldn't recommend—"

"Whatever." She cut me short again! The nerve of this brat. She walked off and I crossed my arms above my chest, just trying to figure out what the hell she was thinking. Her detention lasted for at least two hours. Curfew started in under one hour and she was walking out of the castle. Well, at least I could take pleasure in knowing she'd get some extra trouble for not correctly serving her detention. I certainly wasn't going to serve her detention especially after I watched her so graciously puke into the mop bucket.

_Ugh…_

I shuddered at the image of her puking. Ugh.

I looked around at the unclean corridor and raised an eyebrow. McGonagall wasn't exactly one you wanted to disappoint. Maybe I'd give it one more go.

****************************************************8888

"_Draco…faster…oh God…yes…harder…oh…oh!"_

"God shut up!" I screamed, cradling my head in my hands as I put it between my legs. I kept shaking my head, as if physically shaking it would force the memories out of my head.

"_I'm scared Draco…" I whispered to him and he smiled, actually smiled, running his fingers down my face before he leaned down to press a kiss on my lips. When he pulled back his hair fell like a curtain around his face, his blond hair shining by the sunlight which streamed through the window._

"_I'll be gentle—"_

"_But I've never done this—"_

"_Neither have I." He said and I went silent, unbelieving that this boy had never snaked his way into a girl's pants before. He chuckled at the expression on my face and leaned down, giving me another kiss._

"_It'll be a first for us both. I'll go slowly. Are you ready?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Are you sure this is what you want?" He asked and I looked up into his blue eyes. God those baby blues, I could never forget those eyes. I smiled up at him, caressing his face and brushing a lock of hair out of the way. But of course, that lock of hair immediately fell back into place._

_**I knew it'd be you. I knew it'd be you from the very first day I saw you.**_

"Auuugh!" I screamed again, pounding my fists into the grass, trying to get the damned memories out of my head. I pounded over..and over…and over and over and over again. I wasn't going to cry. No, I refused to cry. I would not cry over _him_. And at the thought of him, I became nauseated and immediately I cupped a hand over my mouth, closing my eyes and forcing the feeling to pass.

_Please, let it stop. Christ let it stop._

And by the stroke of a miracle, the feeling passed.

"Screaming at the lake? I see why you're so awful at Charms, you've lost your marbles."

_His voice._

I froze and felt the blood completely drain from my face. I forced the upcoming feeling of nausea to stay at the pit of my stomach and gripped the grass within my fingers tightly.

"Not now…not now…go away Malfoy…go away." I spit the words out, attempting to repress the surge of emotion that came with the sound of his voice. I gripped the grass a little more tightly.

"Can't, seems like I'll have to bring you in for another detention. You're out past curfew."

"Goddamnit Draco…please just go away." And with his name rolling off of my tongue, I couldn't hold it in anymore. The first sob broke from my lips, then the second, then the third and so on. I covered my mouth with my hand and tried to muffle the sound, but I knew Draco had heard. His silence told me that he had heard. But there was nothing I could do to stop it, the sobs came and the tears flowed, and all I could do was shake uncontrollably as my body did the only thing it knew how to do in times of breakdowns: my left hand went to my left pocket and my right hand the other, quickly they brought out what my body then craved.

_Pregnant and smoking. Classy._

Even as I drew in the first breath of the cigarette, my tears would not stop. I pointlessly wiped at my face, smearing my tears everywhere along with my snot. But I didn't care. I didn't give a shit that I looked disgusting—I already felt disgusting, at least the interior matched the exterior.

"Here." Came his voice and a dark green handkerchief appeared in front of my face. I snatched it out of his hand and wiped my face, uncouthly blowing my nose into it. I held onto it, knowing that he probably wouldn't want to touch it after that little show. He slowly took a seat next to me and if it didn't look so trashy, I would have lit another cigarette and smoked two at once. I settled for inhaling deeply.

"Thanks." Begrudgingly I said to him, not really wanting to be near the boy. In fact, I didn't even want to know him.

_Well, good to know that there's a reason for your mood swings._

_**Shut up.**_

"You haven't been yourself recently." He said tentatively and I snapped towards him. I heard concern in his voice. I knew I heard concern. I shakily looked up into his eyes and for a moment I felt warmth inside of me. His blue eyes were hidden by the darkness of the night, but I knew they were sparkling. They always sparkled.

_Maybe I could tell him the truth. Maybe I could just come out with it and put everything on the table. Maybe I could stop the lies and—_

"Though I can't say I'm complaining. Gives one helluva show when you run out on McGonagall like that."

*****************************************888

"Though I can't say I'm complaining. Gives one helluva show when you run out on McGonagall like that." The moment I said that, I knew I had made a dreadful mistake. The light in her eyes had completely disappeared and the hanky in her hand was squeezed to its very last thread it seemed. But the thing was, she didn't look angry, she didn't even seem annoyed…even through her tears I could see the single most look that I hated to ever see: disappointment. The way she looked at me, it was as if with that one comment I had swept the world from right under her feet and had done something so completely unforgivable that she had lost all hope in me.

But what hope? What hope did she ever have in _me_?

I found myself staring at her, waiting for a sign…something to help me to interpret that _damned_ look on her face. Slowly, she lowered the handkerchief to the ground and took another drag on her cigarette, finally looking away from me and at the lake.

"And to think.." she trailed off and a dry laughter came from her lips, something that unnerved me quite the amount.

"And to think, what?" I asked her, curious as ever. What made this girl cry? Never, never had I ever known her to show any sign of weakness. She was a rock this girl, soul, mind and body. At my question she turned to look at me again, that look of disappointment still in her eyes. I was…scared.

"That I once loved you."

…..

…

"_What?_"


	13. the end

I want to hereby give a solemn apology to my faithful readers and to those who had hope I would finish this Draco Malfoy Story.

I want each of you to know that I read every single review and criticism and take them to heart, not offensively, but instead constructively and with immense appreciation.

This story did not go as I had imagined it to go. It was supposed to be something amazingly romantic. Something just so...so sad and wonderful at the same time. But I bit off more than I can chew. I will give you the plot I had planned this entire time, for the sake of letting my wonderful readers know what I had only _intended_ to do with this fic.

Snape's daughter had of course met Draco once, long ago, and since then she has thought of him fondly, because as you know, women rarely forget their first crush, especially from their childhoods, no matter how long it has been.

Not only that, Snape had relocated her to Russia as a measurement to protect her from the grasps of Voldemort, but despite this separation from Hogwarts and such, Snape had allowed the Malfoys to meet with her for short periods of time. During these meetings, Draco had developed a trust and carelessness that he could not develop with anybody else. It wasn't because her personality was so glamorously amazing and kind, but because he wouldn't have to face her every day. In fact, he didn't have to meet with her for months on end, and occasionally for an entire year.

Because of this, he had always been honest with her, absolutely and completely honest, hiding nothing because she would never be around to judge him.

Then as they turned into their teen years they started to sexually experiment with each other, the other being the only one they could trust during the evolving war. But the war becomes greater and of course eventually comes to an end, along with the death of Anastasia's father, Severus Snape.

This is the past you were supposed to uncover as the story progressed, but hey, I never got that far.

And here you, the reader come in at Severus' funeral. Draco has no recollection of her and in fact hates this Ana. In fact, Ana hates him. Ana hates everybody it seems, especially the Golden Trio.

You watch Ana flirt like any other girl, you watch her get into a relationship and etc..etc...she even shares some intimate moments with the boy she supposeldy hates, Harry Potter.

You also read along as you find that Ana has some talent for music and is pretty damn average in everything else.

What you don't find out later on is that she is brilliant at music, and ONLY at music. She's so mediocrely rubbish at everything else in magic, but it's alright, because she's fantastic with music. This will become her career, her ticket to fame.

At the same time Draco will go into hermitage, living off his family wealth and staying holed up in an apartment, unwilling to face the world and having become completely sick of his mother and the past of his father. In fact, he wants to abandon the whole Malfoy name, because all that is left now is the shame of his name and the immense, ill-gotten fortune. But he can't get a job, he can't even bring himself to get a job as he wallows in his own misery.

And of course, the families affected by the war, families wronged by the Malfoys and such, still want to be rid of them. Narcissa handles the hate mail, the threats and hostility with grace and with humility, willingly giving up most of her fortune to charities in attempt to rectify the wrong her family has caused.

Draco on the other hand, cannot bring himself to kneel down and apologize because he is still arrogant inside, and still too proud. This of course gets him into trouble as one night he runs into a drunken wizard, and as he turns around to avoid the fight, the drunken wizard throws a curse that blinds him.

He stumbles in and out of consciousness, landing in the wizarding hospital, hearing bits and pieces of becoming permanently blind. For about a week he mopes in blindness in his bed at the hospital, pretending not to be able to hear his mother crying by his side.

On the 7th day he is pulled out of his room and into the surgery room, before any questions can be asked he's put under, only to wake up blinking and with his sight back. But when he goes to the bathroom to look in the mirror, he finds that his eyes are no longer blue, but a sterling grey. He would recognize those eyes from anywhere. Ana has donated her eyes to him and this leads him to go find her.

As he returns home to live with his mother for a short time as he recovers, he sees a flyer, a flyer for an upcoming and famous pianist. Her nickname is the blind pianist (and I'm sure you can guess who it is).

He goes to one of her concerts and through her music, feels her heart, her emotions. He stays till after the show is over to greet her. She recognizes him immediately by the sound of his voice.

And then I was going to make a sequel.

Yeap.


End file.
